


Just A Glimpse

by RegalPixieDust



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2018-09-26
Packaged: 2018-10-28 11:10:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 44
Words: 67,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10830066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RegalPixieDust/pseuds/RegalPixieDust
Summary: A series of Outlaw Queen one-shots. Just a glimpse into their every day lives. Some AU, some not. Officially rated M for Chapter 3 and after.





	1. Something's Not Right

**I was given this prompt by the beautiful Celina (RegalCountess) and I decided to start a little series of OQ one-shots. Hope it was what you were looking for, Celina! Haha! I own nothing but the mistakes, as per usual.**

**Prompt: Roland calls Regina 'Mommy' for the first time.**

* * *

 

Something's Not Right

It's not unusual for Regina to wake up in the middle of the night.

At first, it was feeling warmer than usual, but being wrapped up tightly in Robin's arms would do that to a person. Then, she would wake due to sudden movement, Robin would turn over in his sleep or jump in his dreams and it would draw Regina out of her own slumber.

But, tonight is different. Something's not right. She can feel it.

Regina moves away slowly, unwrapping herself from Robin's hold. He stirs slightly, trying to squeeze her back into his chest and mumbling incoherently. When she places a soft kiss to his forehead, he stops and falls back into a deep sleep.

Slowly, she sits up and swings her legs off the edge of the bed. Their room is dark, but she can see a light from the hallway through the bottom of the bedroom door. Curiously, she tiptoes to the door and creaks it open.

She listens intently, secretly hoping inside that her mind is playing tricks on her. She does hear a noise, but she's not sure what it is; it's muffled and quiet. Regina considers waking Robin for a second, but doesn't. Instead, she walks from the bedroom quietly to check on their boys.

Henry's room is first. She slowly peers inside the room and smiles when she see's her son curled up in his duvet, an airy snore leaving his throat as he sleeps. For a second, she basks in the peaceful look present on his face. After the months spent trying to bring Emma back from the darkness, their entire family is exhausted, but Henry most of all. Despite the peace in this room, she's drawn away when she hears the one sound a parent dreads.

Roland's crying. She walks quickly to his bedroom and her heart aches as soon as she opens the door. Roland is curled in a ball, rolling from side to side, soft sobs erupting from his throat.

Regina flips his bedroom light on and instantly walks inside. Without a word, Regina sits on the bed and scoops the boy into her arms, his head against her chest and her chin resting on atop his head. He's burning to the touch and she gasps.

"I don't feel good," Roland croaks, his voice shaky with tears.

Regina frowns, "Why didn't you come and get me or Daddy?"

"You were sleeping," Roland sighs, beginning to breath heavily into her chest.

The thought that Roland feels like he shouldn't wake them tore through her insides, guilting being left in its path. Regina places a soft kiss into Roland's hair. His fever has caused him to sweat and she can feel it on her lips.

"What hurts?" Regina whispers, beginning to rock him in her arms.

Roland shudders in her arms, "Everything," he breathes sadly and then a sound travels up his throat. Regina had seen Henry vomit enough as a child to recognise that sound anywhere and it prompts Regina to stand and get Roland into the nearest bathroom as quickly as she can.

They just make it.

Roland is on the floor, kneeling high over the toilet, the contents of his stomach being involuntary heaved into the bowl.

Feeling helpless as a parent is one of the most horrifying feelings. Roland is wailing, begging Regina to make it stop, and there's nothing she can do. She's kneeling behind him, rubbing comforting circles on his back and whispering anything she can think of into his ear to keep him calm.

She knows it has stopped when he leans back into her chest, dropping all of his weight onto her. She frowns into his hair, hating that he's poorly.

"Feeling any better?" Wordlessly, he nods his head and reaches to grab her wrists pulling her arms tight around his front. Smiling at his action, she drops a kiss onto the top of his head, "Let's get you to bed?"

She let's him go, only for a second, before lifting him back into her arms to leave the bathroom, "Can I sleep with you and Daddy?" He asks into the crook of her neck as he wraps his legs around her waist.

"That's where we are going," she informs him, squeezing him close.

Robin is standing next to the bed when she walks in, he's put on a shirt and frowns at the sight of his son, "I was just coming to find you."

Dropping Roland softly into the middle of their bed, Regina crawls in beside him, Robin following suit on the other side, "He's not doing too well. Depending on how he is in the morning, we might have to visit Whale."

Roland is glued to Regina, his arms wrapped tightly around her. Robin smirks at the view, "It seems as if I've been replaced," he jokes, moving in close until his chest was pressed against Roland's back, truly cocooning him, "However, I do believe I can share you… Just this once."

"You'll get me all to yourself soon enough," Regina whispers, her voice laced with a little too much seduction that is appropriate in the presence of Roland, but it leaves Robin chuckling nonetheless.

Roland sighs sadly, leaning his face as deep into Regina's chest as he could. Regina frowns, rubbing the boys back, "I'm not tired," Roland whines.

"But, you will be, sweetheart, just close your eyes and drift away," Regina coos softly, keeping up with the patterned circles she is leaving on his back. Robin watches the interaction, sighing happily and quietly.

"Okay," Roland yawns, "I love you, Mommy," he whispers. Regina's lips part in shock and she looks over to Robin, whose eyes are bulged open, shocked, but only happiness can be seen plastered on his face.

Roland must realises that he has sparked a reaction because his body tenses in their hold and he mumbles a sad sorry and tells them he won't say it again.

"Why not?" Robin asks.

Sighing, Roland turns slowly, to look up at the ceiling, his hands fidgeting together. It's clear to both Robin and Regina that this has been on his mind for a while, "Regina is Henry's Mommy. Not mine…And I already have a Mommy."

Regina pouts at Robin, "My boy, a child can have more than one Mom."

"They can?"

"Of course," Regina cuts in, placing her palm to rub over Roland's stomach, "Henry has me and Emma. We are both his Mom. Henry's my Little Prince, but I will always have room in my heart for another little boy."

"So… I can have two?" Roland asks hopefully. Tearfully, Regina nods at him and kisses his cheek, "You can be my Mommy, too? I can be your other Prince?"

"Oh, no," Regina dismisses, pursing her lips together, "I already have my prince and my thief," Regina smiles over to Robin, "But, I am in search of a knight."

"I can be your knight, Regina!" Roland squeals happily, but retreats when he remembers he isn't feeling very well.

Regina gathers him back in towards her chest, holding him close, "Yes, you can, sweetheart. Now, let's get some sleep," Roland yawns and nods into her, "I love you, my little knight."

"I love you too, Mommy."


	2. Love In A Photograph

_When he wanted to take her picture, he didn't tell her to smile, but told her "I love you" and her smile was more beautiful._

**Geli pointed me towards the above quote and I fell in love. I had to write something. Here's a little os. FLUFF AHEAD (For you, Amie)**

* * *

 

Love In A Photograph

Regina loved taking pictures of the boys. All three of them. Nobody knew about the secret photo album she kept in her desk drawer at the office. That is, nobody did until Robin found it one day when he was snooping. As usual.

"What's this?" He asked, pulling the leather bound book from its drawer and flipping it open to the first page.

A picture of the their sons. Only of their backs as they walked hand in hand in front of Regina, it seemed.

"What's what?" Regina was sitting on the couch in the office, focussed, her eyes squinted at the paperwork in front of her as she partly ignored his question.

_Nothing_ he mumbled, letting her keep her concentration. He sat on her desk chair and flipped through more pages of the photo album.

Regina loved to take pictures of them all. That wasn't a secret, but their mantle, as well as her desk, consisted of posed photographs of their family. Arms around one another, all eyes and the camera, and a big smile because someone had asked them for. Not to say that they weren't happy, that's not the case at all.

The pictures in this album though, they're different. None of the pictures were posed, they're candid. Real. Some of them even have Robin doing a double take at the emotion on his _own_ face.

Robin, Henry, and Roland at the breakfast table while in a deep conversation; he remembered the day this was taken, even the in depth conversation about life as a thief, but he did not remember Regina sneaking off to take this.

"Am I going to have to put a lock on my drawer?" Regina sighed after she noticed what had him so engrossed and silent. She looked embarrassed and Robin would have none of it.

"These are excellent," Robin praised, placing his hand delicately over the book, "Why on Earth are they hidden away in your office?"

Her cheeks began to turn pink and she shrugged her shoulders, "I like having them here. I can look at them when I'm having a bad day."

He referenced the pictures in frames that sat on her desk for the world to see, "Wouldn't these suffice?" He asked, and when she moved to stand behind him, encircling her arms around his shoulders, she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"The ones on my desk are for the world," Regina explained, her chin fitting perfectly into the crook of her neck as they stared at the album together, "These… These are for me. They show the things that only I ever get to see." She reaches down and flips the page to a picture of Roland buckled over in hysterics: "The laughter," She chuckled.

The next page showed Henry, he had been destroyed after his first crush seemed to slip away from him, "The sadness?" Robin asked.

She nodded into his neck and flipped the page once again. This one was of Robin, asleep, calm: "The peace."

"They're stunning, Regina," he whispered, "I only wish you had shared them with me."

"I'm sorry," she offered genuinely, "I'll make you copies."

"See to it that you do, milady," he teased, closing the book and placing it back into the drawer, "Do you have much more work to do?"

"Unfortunately," Regina unwrapped herself from him and nudged him playfully to get out of her chair, "Maybe if you get out of here and let me work, I'll actually get something done."

He scoffed lightly, "How rude of me." Robin stood and walked away from the desk, allowing Regina to sit in her chair and force herself back into her work routine, "I'll see you at home?" He asked.

She gave an affirmative _yes_ with an enthusiastic nod of her head, but kept her eyes on her work. Robin began to make his way out of the office, but when he caught of glimpse of Regina's camera out of the corner of his eye, he couldn't help himself.

He picked the machine up gingerly, carefully navigating his way through the buttons on it. It wasn't his first time using the camera, but he was by no means an expert. When it seemed like he had switched it on and the only thing left to do was to push a button, he looked at his soulmate.

His true love. His light.

Aiming the camera at her, he smirked, "Hey, Regina?" She hummed in response, eyes still glued to the desk, "I love you…"

His voice was soft and laced with truth. Regina couldn't help the wide, bright smile that formed on her faced, her bottom lip just barely tucked under her top row of teeth. Her eyes crinkled and narrowed with content.

That was the one. _The_ smile. The smile that made him weak at the knees. The one that he longed to see and would forever long to see for as long as he lived.

Robin snapped the picture immediately, Regina hearing the clicking of the shutter and lifting her eyes to his.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her smile still present but brimming with more amusement.

Wordlessly, he shuffled up to her desk and showed her the screen of the camera with the picture he had taken. Her eyes softened instantly at seeing it, tears slowly but surely gathering.

When she looked up at him, he reached his hand over the desk and cupped her cheek: "The love." He whispered, leaning over the desk to drop a quick, but loving, kiss to her lips.

Leaving the camera in her hands, he turned to leave her office. As he reached the door, her voice drew him back, "I love you, too."

Turning, his face glowed with a smile and she captured a picture of him. He should have seen it coming, but he didn't. He laughed, covering his face, embarrassed.

"Hurry home," he grinned before leaving, actually leaving this time.

Regina was left alone in her office with the two new pictures that she had been so scared to try and take herself. She was worried that she would try to snap a picture of their love and there would be nothing there; the universe's way of kicking her down one more time.

But, here it was. Very vivd in a photograph. There was no denying it now.


	3. This Is Living

**A/N: Outlaw Queen will never die. Proud to be part of a fandom that is so vigorously going to keep this couple alive.**

**One-shot, rated M. Post S4 finale, S5 is a shitstorm that didn't happen. Enjoy and please let me know what you think.**

**A huge shoutout to Eva for the guidance, love you!**

* * *

_This Is Living_

They say that the second before you die your entire life flashes before your eyes, that you get a slideshow of every single moment, the big and the small. All of it just so you know you were here, that you were loved. That you existed.

One second between life and death.

And they'd come so unbelievably close to losing each other, Regina so close to that single reflective second.

At the hands of Rumple, no less, Regina's life was almost hastily ripped away; An act of selflessness and the swing of a blade, dropping her to her feet. Remedied by Henry's display of maturity and courage. In a moment without an iota of hesitation, the new author acted to save his mother and Robin will be forever thankful.

In that fabricated reality, cradling her in his arms as she slowly began to let go was heart-wrenching. And then when he was fired back through realms to their own reality, he woke with the dreaded twisting of concrete knots in his stomach. Standing to his feet was painful, but through it all his first instinct was to find her, to feel the warmth of her skin, to caress her face.

It was too close.

Seeing her living, breathing, having survived the mind games and betrayal, and after launching himself towards her to envelop her in a tight embrace, he knew. He was going to spend the rest of this day, their live's, showing her just how grateful he is for her existence.

Regina deserves so much more than that final moment, more than that morbid flash that accompanies a final breath.

So when they are finally alone that evening and his wet lips are dragging from the curve of her neck down to begin the sweet exploration of her bare chest, she knows. She knows it's because he adores the heart that is thudding deep within her rib cage; once black, infiltrated with darkness brought on by heartache and deception, now becoming lighter and lighter every day, with every kiss, every heroic choice. They have helped each other rid of the darkness of their pasts and continue to brighten each other's life.

When he changes where his weight lies and nibbles down the side of her left breast in a sickeningly teasing route toward her stomach, she knows it's because he loves the sound of her soft giggles when she's tickled.

On her abdomen, where he watched her bleed, where in that other blasted world there would have been left a scar had she survived, he presses kisses along every inch. Where there was ever a potential of broken skin and uncontrollable bleeding is sealed closed every time his lips brush against her flushed skin.

It started as quiet walk in the moonlight, innocent enough, and is ending as pure and utter worship. Since the moment Robin peeled away every shred of clothing from her body, agonisingly slowly, Regina has laid perfectly still, excluding the soft touches to his bare shoulders or heavy intakes of breath. Every time she tries to reciprocate any touch or gesture, he silently ends her movements and continues with his own.

His lips latch around a hardened peak, bathing in the way he can hear the moan that gets caught in her throat. Devoted to feel how her breathing stops for a beautiful moment.

There is no added worry of waking the children, Roland is with the Merry Men and Henry with Emma. The least she can do is let go, let her body release the hisses, moans, and gasps begging to be exhaled and made known, especially when his fingertips glide down her sides delicately, not once releasing the latched mouth feasting on her.

To say he is adoring every single groove of her body would be an insult to how he is truly making her feel.

They've been together fully, this isn't an unfamiliar experience, but this time there's almost desperation, a need, a want, an underlying layer of dismal worry making them wonder if they will still be alive and well tomorrow to indulge in one another.

Robin needs her to know exactly how much she means to him. He needs her to know, to remind her that she is alive.

With every scratch of stubble on her skin, her pulse livens, only a fraction, but it reminds her. Every time an exhale of breath through his nose tickles her skin, making the exposed area become riddled with goosebumps, she remembers.

Perfectly, he settles between her thighs, dropping moistened, open mouthed kisses everywhere but where she is desperate for him to be, until finally he begins to devour the taste of her.

Regina's thighs tighten, gripping him closer. She's trying not to, trying to relax, but the consistent flicking against her clit, a suck and tug every so often, her muscles contract, she jerks, she hums from deep in her throat.

He slides home easily, welcomed eagerly and passionately; Moans on their lips, soft scratches left by her beautifully manicured hand on the curve of his spine while she murmurs his name, tossing her head back into the pillow.

He won't let any inch of their skin part, if she stretches her arm out and away to the side, fumbling with the sheets as another surge of exhilaration radiates along her veins, he brings it back to him, urging her to wrap it around his body instead, to fuse to him.

Whether she is beneath him or writhing above him, they are one.

Chests are pressed together, hands clutching onto whatever they can on the other. Even when she lays face down, they are melded together wherever possible. His arms are looped under the front of her shoulders, hands are grasping oh so gently in her hair, his chest bound to the perfect curve of her back, his chin in the crook of her neck, mouth breathing hotly onto the rim of her ear.

She is tingling from head to toe, like carbonation on her skin, digging deeper and deeper. He keeps along with the indulgently steady thrusts, in and out and in and out. Each time she expresses in a string of different ways; a grunt into the pillow, a sharp inhale, a squeeze into the grip she has on his thigh.

He feels her beginning to clench around him, holding his own _oh god_ 's and _Regina_ 's back is impossible and pointless. His outbursts are welcomed and readily accompanied by her own clenched _fuck_ through her teeth.

How he doesn't finish right behind her is a miracle, instead he turns her back over, starting his movements again slowly. Their lips melt together through their deep pants, tongues battling, Regina's fingertips exploring every nook of his scalp.

He's close, his pace losing rhythm, becoming a series of jerks cluing her onto just how much effort he is fighting through to keep moving.

Regina's spent, she knows her body has reached its peak and it isn't likely she will reach another, so she smiles into their kiss, bumps their noses and murmurs, "I need to feel all of you. Let go."

And he does. Holy shit, does he ever. Tightness in his spine comes with the bright flashing behind his eyes, he suddenly drops his weight slightly, abandoning himself atop her piping skin. His forehead is pressed into her collar bone, his steaming breath puffing vigorously out against her.

After heavy breaths and soft kisses, their souls calm and retreat back from the high they reached. They allow their bodies to relax into each other. Their eyes are locked, blue meeting brown intensely.

In most instances, Robin would avoid heavy conversation in situations like this one, but today is certainly not like any that have proceeded them.

"When my eyes opened earlier, after Henry wrote... I thought you were going to be gone. I thought that we were too late," he admits tentatively. He is supposed to be hopeful, supposed to be seeing the brighter side to things, and yet here he is, falling into a hole of hopelessness.

"I'm here," she whispers, hushing him, trying to be as supportive as possible, but it doesn't matter, it doesn't change a thing.

"I..." Stuttering and unsure what to say first, he trails off. It would take him years upon years to tell her everything he wants to; he wants to teach her the things she wants to learn, talk through stories she has never heard, but most of all, he wants to say those three words that haven't been said yet.

"I know," she finishes for him, a quiet whisper into the dimpled skin of his cheek, peppering another soft kiss.

Robin grins but sticks to his guns. This will not be a repeat of the events at the town line only months ago, firmly telling her, "I'm not letting another day go by without actually saying it," as their eyes lock seriously. "Whether you know it or not."

"Okay..."

"I love you, Regina. Everyday I wonder how I have been so lucky to find you..." Merited tears gather in their eyes, ones stemming from relief mixed with ones of unadulterated emotion. "I must've slipped through a crack somewhere"

"I love you, too," she blurts, unable to contain the words a second more. It's out in the open, even though it was previously known, felt, and acted upon.

Forget the final second between life and death.

The second after you hear someone say _I love you_ , the second after you tell the love of your life how you feel, that is how you know you are here, that you're loved, that you exist.


	4. Young Blood

Prompt: Robin and Regina chaperone Henry and Violet's first date at the movies, but get up to mischief themselves.

I name my prompt chapters after the song that gets me through it, in this case Young Blood by Birdy. Enjoy!

* * *

Young Blood

_You keep my secrets hope to die_

_Promises, swear them to the sky_

Once the curse was cast, after waking up in a new reality, Regina spent a number of private hours indulging in the wonders of this land without magic; electricity, coffee, cars, Italian food, showers, the list is endless. But if she had to pick her favourite experience, she'd say the movie theatre without a second of hesitation.

She avoided it for months, drove passed the building almost everyday on her way to the office, actively trying to push down the curiosity of its purpose, but one day she caved. One day she bought a ticket to the only movie playing, pushed through the doors and was instantly engulfed in a scent she had never smelled before, the smell that is now one of her favourites and belongs to one of her favourite snacks.

At first, the concession stand was a mystery, and unsure of what to do, she asked for whatever was most popular. And that's when she had the most glorious, butter drenched, popcorn for the first time. She knew it was bad for her, she couldn't stop thinking about all the running she would have to do to counter the effect of the snack, but she never once stopped scarfing it down.

She sat right at the front, as close to the screen as she could have, and when the curtains pulled apart and the room went dark, she was sucked into the most magical experience of her life, the most beautiful story.

She possesses the most powerful magic that any being could harness, and yet popcorn scented air, those light airy bites of deliciousness, and the projection of an eighty minute story made up of moving pictures rendered her speechless and in awe.

Then started a new tradition. She'd visit once a week, capitalising on the number of projection reels that materialised with the curse, each containing a different story, a unique _once upon a time_ , and for a short while, she could let go of her woes, her need for revenge, and focus on something else.

It would be fair to call it a guilty pleasure, one that she has never shared with a soul… and now Violet is about to experience that magic.

On a date.

With her son.

"Seeing you this wound up is quite charming, my love."

It's a joke, something to lighten the mood, to make her laugh. Though his anything but impeccable timing and horrific choice of word causes her to bite the inside of her cheek and narrow her perfectly sculpted eyebrows toward him.

Clearly, it was deliberate and knowing attempt to make her scrunch her nose at him. She is treated with his signature cheeky grin in return.

They're outside, waiting impatiently (well, impatiently on Regina's part, if she taps her foot nervously on the ground one more time, Robin is going to lift her regardless of her complaining just to stop the irritating noise) for Henry and Violet to get passed the ticket buying and snack choosing.

Emma seemed to think that Henry wouldn't need a chaperone this evening.

_He's a good kid_ , his blonde mother shrugged. But Regina has heard stories, read all the ways young couples in love could get up to mischief. And none of that is happening on her watch, besides, they barely know anything about this new interest in Henry's life. Robin, of course, was more than happy to accompany them, to Regina's enjoyment and Henry's dismay; Robin was merely another body to add to the humiliation of a chaperoned evening.

Henry agreed to Regina's terms, but made it very clear on the walk over that if he or Violet so much as caught a glimpse of them up close, he would be mortified. Robin was the one to suggest that they hold back, make their way inside once the young couple were seated, and Henry backed down.

"She's a lovely girl," Robin changes his approach, switches to the soothing of her worry instead of trying to make it disappear altogether with bad jokes.

"Yes, she is," Regina sighs. She fidgets with her gloves, not sure whether she wants to peel them off or keep them off, "But I am not quite ready to accept how quickly my son is growing up."

Robin peeks inside the window of the theatre and notices that Henry and Violet are making their way into one of the screens. They have the all clear, so he lifts his arm over Regina's shoulder and walks inside with her, opening the door for her, of course. They already have their tickets, so they skip all the way to the concession stand. Robin eyes up the curious snacks, not a clue what anything is, but Regina doesn't catch on to his curiosity, instead she is pulling her jacket tight around her chest.

Her nervousness and worrying is chewing away at him.

"Just think of it as your son and his friend enjoying an evening together. A friendly outing rather than courting," he suggests. A ludicrous suggestion given her state, and her face portrays just that, she can only imagine her glare. "Alright," he amends, chuckling, "Think of it as an evening for us… and feel free to consider it _my_ courting you," he teases, catching his bottom lip with his teeth.

"Did… did you just ask me out on a date?"

"I don't know what that is."

Regina laughs at his narrowed, confused eyes softly through her nose, amused, and he continues, "But if it involves us making the most of tonight, then yes."

The effort warms her chest, so she links their hands together, and suddenly realises, "Oh! This is your first movie."

"It is," he smirks, looking back to all the things so alien to him.

"What would you like to try?" She asks regarding the treats before them, snuggling closer into the coated arm that he has slung over her shoulder..

"What would you recommend?"

"Hmm," she hums and pretends to think, making the effort to tilt her head dramatically. She peers up from her shortened height, "Popcorn. Without a doubt."

Robin presses a chaste kiss to her smiling lips.

"Popcorn it is," he smiles down to her and looks around the concessions one more time before asking, "What exactly is that?"

Regina snorts a laugh and takes the lead with ordering popcorn and drinks for them - leaving him to navigate all alone would have been mean… hilarious, but mean. They enter the screen from the back, letting the usher rip a small tear into their tickets and open the door for them.

"Enjoy the movie," he says happily, but Regina knows she's going to struggle to do that.

Henry and Violet are sitting in the middle, their silhouettes recognisable anywhere… that and there only seems to be one additional couple tucked in away far in the corner - it's not the most popular film, apparently.

They have to sit in the back anyway, sitting in front of the young couple would make Henry furious no doubt. So she goes for the back row, seven rows behind Henry.

They remain silent through the trailers, not that it matters because Robin is fascinated. His eyes are glued to the screen the way hers were during her first cinema experience. The popcorn is a hit, he munches on it happily as the bag is perched on his lap. He's sweet and regularly offers Regina the bag in a tilt and she grabs a handful.

But she's distracted. Every time Henry shifts in his chair, she feels the need to lurch forward, but it always ends up an innocent rearrangement in his chair. She does it all through the trailers, even when the animated film begins.

"I have a question," Robin whispers, distracted from the screen for a moment, not surprising given Regina's most recent sudden movement after Henry stands up to take off coat has pulled his focus. "Why exactly couldn't Henry come here alone with a girl?"

Regina scowls at the question, she can't believe that he wouldn't have much of a clue, but his face is genuine, clear as day and relatively well lit by the movie screen. She points to her right, towards the opposite back corner of the room. Robin leans back and averts his gaze in that direction. Sitting in the back seats are that other couple, surely not much older than Henry and Violet, and Robin isn't sure where one ends and the other begins, their lips are fused hotly and they are devouring each other, no attention being paid to the movie at all, not ever it seems.

Robin coughs nervously and readjusts in his seat, mumbling, "Point taken." Regina snorts at his reaction. "What a strange place for such affection," he whispers.

Regina shrugs her shoulders, ponders aimlessly for a small moment, and whispers back, "It's dark, intimate. There's the fear of getting caught… They probably find thrill in it somewhere."

Robin's attitude changes then, his shocked face transforming into one plastered with a playful glint.

"Is that so?"

The tone of his voice alone carries the suggestion not daring to pass his lips, though he may as well have screamed it from his chair.

She smirks nervously in the direction of his suggestive eyes, "Not a chance."

Robin huffs a sharp laugh through his nose and twists in his seat. The movie is completely forgotten, a new challenge in his sights.

"Afraid we'll get caught?"

"Robin…" she warns, fidgeting with her fingers, "I am not making out with you in a movie theatre."

He reaches down and stops her fumbling fingers, cups her cheek and turns her face to his, moving into dangerously close proximity from her lips, brushing against them just for a second, and whispers genuinely, "I don't know what that means."

This entire evening has proved to be a series of firsts for him; dating, popcorn, and now some common slang. Laughter bubbles in her stomach, starts to erupt from her belly, but his lips attach to hers before it even starts to physically form as sound, instead it's swallowed up and becomes a moan in the back of her throat when his fingers slide back and softly grips into her hair.

She expects him to pull away, but instead he traces along her lower lip with his tongue, teasing her to welcome him. _This is crazy_ , she thinks, but she lets him in anyway, drunk on his sense of adventure. She's pulled closer, the hand in her hair pressing her lips even closer (if that is even possible).

Regina gives in completely, falls into his passion without a safety net. The armrest between them is rid of the drinks cup, blindly set in the one next to her, and the arm is lifted so it's no longer a barrier, all with tongues tangled, noses pressed together.

She shifts closer, all but sitting on his lap, linking their legs together at their ankles. Her hands cascade up his neck on either side, along his cheek quickly, then smooth down again to link at the nape of his neck.

For a tiny moment, they breath, Robin nipping her bottom lip playfully before capturing her mouth again with his own.

It's surprising how easy she is able to forget about their surroundings. The low light, the loud speakers, the perfect man - it all appears to be the most heavenly of combinations. And they haven't been able to kiss like this for a while; no inhibitions, unadulterated hear. But with the continuous danger showing up all the time and the combined lack of personal time, who could blame them? It's been hard.

She's enjoying every sound he makes, though she can only really feel the vibrations of his moans and groans over the cinematic soundtrack playing loudly around them. He still has one hand twisted in her hair, and his other sneaks precariously inside her coat, he'd never dream of going any further in such a public place, but her stomach still jumps higher and becomes best friends with the heart that is beating so incredibly fast in her chest.

They are lost in each other when gentle thuds start softly hitting against the back of her head, but she chooses to ignore them, and she can easily when Robin tickles against the skin just beneath the hem of her shirt, but when a voice angrily hisses a whispered, "Mom!" She rips her swollen lips away from Robin and turns quickly to one of the most mortified faces she could have ever imagined her son making, not that her doesn't match his perfectly.

There's stray popcorn in her lap and Henry has three kernels in his hand ready to launch again. The poor thing had tried to get their attention by throwing popcorn at them.

Surprisingly, Henry directs his unamused stare towards Robin and he shifts nervously in his chair, caught and exposed.

"You are supposed to be the adults," Henry scolds quietly, embarrassed and checking to make sure Violet hasn't turned back, "And instead of watching my every move you two are back here…" Henry blushes, almost hidden by the dimmed room. He doesn't want to admit what his mother has been caught in the middle of, not to her face anyway.

"Making out?" Robin finishes, and then grimaces when Regina smacks into his arm and groans, "Sorry."

He looks up to Henry sympathetically and apologises again, making sure Henry knew that one was for him and him alone.

"Sorry, honey," Regina mumbles, equally as embarrassed herself.

Henry huffs out his nose, reluctantly accepting the apologies. He reaches in his jean pocket for the tissues he had popped in there before they left the house. He gives them to Regina and she is at a loss.

"Violet has a cold, I brought them incase she needed one." Regina's heart melts at her son's kindness, but is still lost. Henry leans in close and whispers right into her ear, "He has lipstick _all_ over his face."

Regina's eyes bug open. She snaps her head around to look at the very, very embarrassed version of her soulmate and she bursts out laughing, leaving her shame on the sidelines. His lips are stained a deep red, and it looks like whoever painted them has never been able to colour inside the lines in their life.

Henry slips back to his date and Robin asks what's so funny. Still chuckling, Regina takes a tissue and wipes around his mouth and shows him the red lipstick that has stuck to the white of the paper.

She pulls on his arm and takes him out into the hallway so they can clean off his face.

"I am humiliated," he whines and she snorts through her nose, agreeing.

"You've had quite an adventure today, haven't you?" She asks and continues wiping away at his face. "New snacks, an animated feature-"

"Being caught by my son while kissing his mother…" He groans heavily and sinks his shoulders low.

Her jaw hits the floor and she moves the tissue away from his face, staring at him longingly.

"Your son?" She asks, a tickle of emotion in her throat.

Robin's eyes bulge from his skull. He's almost slipped so many times before, but with the air of embarrassment he was unable to catch it this time.

"I love him as if he were," Robin admits, not seeing any reason to try and cover it up at this point. But he is unable to read her eyes in this instance and he's petrified.

Regina smiles lovingly, taking his face in her hands even with the lipstick covered tissue tangled in her fingers.

"And we love you."

He drops from her gaze, smirking happily. "What do you say we get out of here?"

Henry has certainly shown his maturity and all they seemed to succeed in doing is embarrassing him. So, Regina types a quick text, she lets him know that they are going to head home, that they trust him, and she throws a final apology on the end for extra measure.

Robin links their fingers after she tosses the tissue into the trash and they walk home in the chilly night air. Robin still blushes every so often, but they laugh it off. It _was_ embarrassing, but it surprisingly makes her feel like more of a mother.

Just shy of Mifflin Street, Regina's cell buzzes in her pocket and she swipes Henry's messages open as they walk; _It's fine but I'm going to stay with Ma. The last thing I need is another awkward encounter with either of you tonight. Enjoy date night ;)._

Regina smirks and hides the teasing message away back into her coat.

"What?"

Regina shakes her head and tucks her arm through his, "Let's just go home."

So, Robin's first time at the movies might have been slightly different from her own, but she still gets to spend the night indulging in a wonder of this land.

A shower... only this time with her the love of her life.


	5. Follow Your Arrow

**Who doesn't love an awkward meeting at a college party?**

**AU Outlaw Queen meeting at a college party. Enjoy!**

* * *

_Follow your arrow_  
_Wherever it points._

Textbooks are strewn across her desk, highlighters dabbled here and there - there's one in her hand, leaving behind a line of neon pink noting an important section of the first Public Policy reading assignment she has for the semester.

Friday night is just like any other night of the week, Regina's routine expertly designed during freshmen year and pristinely rehearsed almost every day since then; classes end in the late afternoon, she eats a quick dinner (one prepared earlier in the day, of course), and then the evenings are spent reading through her notes from that day and working on whatever assignment needs the most attention.

Usually she would study in the library, but after three years, she knows to avoid that building at all cost during the first two weeks and final two weeks of a semester. Those first two weeks are always infested with students bursting with new resolutions and the final two weeks plagued with panic and fear of failing.

Regina is a stellar student, always prepared and engaged in lectures. She prides herself in her excellent grades and it conveniently keeps her mother off of her back. The weekends spent indoors have left her in good graces with professors and an easy-going finals weeks, unlike Emma.

Emma Swan is her polar opposite. The blonde to her brunette, the extrovert to her introvert. Emma knows little about her parents, while Regina is cursed with an overbearing one. Where they live is notorious to house two types of people - the "rich" kids and the "scholarship" kids. Emma and Regina check both of those boxes. Not that Regina  _couldn't_  have been awarded a scholarship, her high school grade point average alone and SAT scores would have sealed that deal, but her mother didn't see the point.

It's not that she doesn't like to socialise or take a break. It's quite the opposite in fact. She would love nothing more than to spend her Friday evenings watching Netflix with friends or going out to dinner or even sitting and gossiping about boys with her roommates. But once again she will spend Friday evening with her nose in a book and her mother's exceedingly high expectations looming in the back of her mind.

Her roommates are preparing for a night at a huge campus party, and they are being anything but quiet, giggling and loud chatter echoing up the stairs.

Regina sighs heavily, removing the single headphone, discarding it across her books along with the highlighter she is using when her name is called from downstairs.

Music while studying is new for Regina, something she picked up during finals week of a summer semester. Emma had suggested it via text after she had been complaining incessantly about the racket made by their temporary upstairs neighbour. And even then, usually she would only be using one headphone as quiet music filters through her head, but this evening called for both.

The enthusiastic patter of footsteps ascending the stairs prompts Regina to swivel on her desk chair towards her bedroom door, waiting for her perky blonde roommate to enter.

And she does, dressed in her usual tomboyish way, along with that god awful red leather jacket that she insists on sporting to all and any events. But tonight there's something different about Emma, a sparkle in her eye, more of a bounce in her hair.

"Expecting me?" Emma asks, noting the way Regina has turned to face to doorway.

"Always," Regina smirks, "But, I have a lot of work to do tonight, so you are wasting your time. Again."

Emma frowns immediately, her shoulders slumping, "Regina, it's the first party of the semester. It's our senior year, our final semester of college and you have yet to come to one party. Do you realise that in six months we are all going to be scattered around the country? This may be our final opportunity to create lifelong memories."

Emma has shifted to Regina's bed and sits down, Regina turning in her chair to follow, "I'm not asking you to abandon your academics completely but you can spare one night, can't you?"

"Are you done?" Regina sighs, fidgeting with the strands of hair that have fallen from the messy bun propped high on her head, "Go and have a good time, you can tell me all about it tomorrow."

Regina turns around to her desk to begin working again, but truth be told it is mostly to avoid seeing Emma's disheartened face. She has tried almost every week since they were randomly housed together to convince Regina to venture out, the exaggeration of her comments becoming more and more drastic each time, and then there have been the odd weekend here and there when she hasn't tried at all, Regina's door remaining closed and her studying uninterrupted.

"That's it," Emma exclaims, standing up tall behind Regina and confidently pulling on the collar of her jacket, "Regina, I swear to God, if you don't put that pen down, get your ass in a pretty dress, and come with me to this party, I will personally call your mother, as terrifying as she is, and tell her you got a C on your first homework assignment."

She swivels in the chair so they are facing each other again, Regina having to look up at the blonde towering over her, her face shows clearly how shocked she is at Emma's outburst, but still laced with a sense of doubt.

Emma would be too scared to call Cora for anything, let alone to relay that kind of news.

"You wouldn't dare," Regina challenges, "You like me to much and don't want me to die at the hands of my mother."

"You're right," Emma sits down on the bed again, leaning forward to be as close to Regina as possible without toppling to the floor, "I do like you too much, but come on! It's the end of the first week, you aren't going to fall behind if you spend one night outside this room. Your body is screaming for fun, it's screaming for interaction, heck maybe a random make out session with a hot boy-"

"My body wants to study. That's it," Regina bites.

Emma stands tall again, utterly defeated, though Regina does start to giggle though when Emma starts to slump her shoulders around and begins whining incoherently like a child.

"Okay," Emma professes in an exhaled huff, dropping to her knees on the cream carpet of Regina's bedroom. "You have made me resort to this. I am on my knees, Regina," Emma slaps her hands together dramatically and with a loud clap, her fingers linking together, "My hands are clasped together. I am begging you. Take one night out of your final semester of college and come to this party with me, your best friend, and have some  _fucking_  fun..." Regina tries to stifle a giggle when Emma adds a breathy, begging, "...please."

Everything about her evening has been comparably normal, exactly the same as all the Fridays before, all until Emma took to the floor in a final attempt to change it all.

And for the first time ever, Regina actually,  _maybe_  wants to change it up. Nothing that Emma has said is untrue; Regina's lack of a social life, her lack of fun... All of those facts are horribly true, brought about by a combination of Regina's need to please her mother and her mother's endless strict rules.

Regina wonders what it would be like to attend a party, to drink whatever it is that people her age drink, to see her classmates outside of the classroom. Emma's right, surely one night out won't kill her, and Cora will never find out.

Once the cogs stop turning, Regina nervously bites the inside of her cheek. Emma is still on the floor in front of her, and has reached over to hold Regina's hands and is childishly whispering  _please_  over and over, overdramatically as usual, but with eyes filled of hope.

There's no way she can go another full semester trying to deny that pouting face.

"Oh, alright..." Regina smirks, smiling even wider when Emma grins at her, all teeth on display and an excited squeeze of Regina's hands. Emma jumps up, smooches a kiss on her forehead that makes Regina scrunch up her nose.

She bats the blonde away "Enough, before I change my mind!"

Emma ushers herself out the room quickly, calling over her shoulder that they are leaving in fifteen minutes. Then she's standing in front of her closet, staring at some of the nicest clothes that money could buy... if she were a politician. Cora is always sure to make sure Regina is clothed in the newest and finest pantsuits and business wear.

_It's never too early to make an impression_ , Cora would say.

Regina doesn't mind it, for the most part, but tonight, if she's really going to give this her best shot, sticking out like a sore thumb most likely isn't the best course of action, and showing up in a fancy business suit built for a formal graduate school interview isn't exactly a universal method of blending in, at least not in this environment.

Frantically, Regina fingers through the garments hanging inside. How is it possible that there isn't one reasonable outfit for a college party, surely she can't have ostracised herself that much.

In a moment of desperation, Regina calls out, "Emma, Ruby?" And when she receives no response, she continues with, "I'm having a wardrobe problem!"

Emma shows up eventually, dress in hand, as if she knew exactly what Regina was thinking from down the hall, "Ruby says you have to put this on and to keep your snide comments about its length to yourself."

"Funny," Regina snarks, taking the beautiful red dress from Emma's fingertips. But before she can put it on, Emma's hands reach into Regina's hair, loosening the bun and letting her hair fall to just below her shoulders, where it rests happily with a sweet, natural curl that would make any girl jealous.

"I would kill to have my hair fall and sit like that," Emma fawns, dropping the hair tie onto Regina's bed, "Don't even touch your hair. It's perfect. Put that on and paint those lips a deep red and we'll be batting off the boys all night."

Regina's suddenly nervous, her cheeks pinking and warming a little at her friends admiration, but her stomach is in knots at the prospect of how menacing her dear friend can be.

"Emma, please promise me that this isn't some plot to play matchmaker for the evening?" She begs, pulling her lounging, grey sweatshirt over her hand until she's just in a small black strapped top.

"Who, me?" Emma smacks her hand to her chest, "I wouldn't dare, besides, you wouldn't need me to match make. You are going to do just fine on your own. You're already committed to leaving the house, now you just need to mingle, make a friend or two, and maybe, just maybe, you'll share a lip lock with a lucky fella."

"I'm not going solely to meet boys," Regina defends, slipping into the dress quickly. It's lovely, a deep red, burgundy almost, with a surprisingly classy neckline - not something she would usually wear, but it works. All except the length that she was scorned to not mention, but she can already tell that she will be nervously tugging on the skirt of the dress all evening to keep it low enough for her liking.

"I know that," Emma offers, genuinely, as she reaches over to Regina's vanity for her limited make-up. Handing Regina a tube of red lipstick, Emma continues, "I'm just so excited that you're coming."

She's carefully paints the deep shade of colour onto her lips, but speaks anyway, in that awkward  _applying lipstick_  language that all women seem to be able to decipher, "I know, but..." She pauses for a moment, rubbing her lips together to spread the colour, popping them loudly before continuing. "But, you are just going to abandon me for Neal when you get there."

"I am not," Emma scoffs, not even slightly convincing enough. And when Regina playfully rolls her eyes at her in the mirror, Emma folds her arms defensively, "I won't. Besides, you're going to meet new friends, remember?"

Once satisfied with her attire, Refina stands straight and twirls to meet Emma's gaze, "Decent enough?"

"Perfect."

* * *

Walking into the collective mass of bodies and the reeking smell of alcohol reminds her instantly why she doesn't go to parties. It's loud, the music taste questionable. On what planet is this screechy techno that blares through the house considered music?. Already she's had a beer shoved into her hands, but she rids of it quickly on whatever surface she avoids bumping into next.

Emma disappears not long after arriving, just as had been predicted. She is swept away by a current of bodies towards the friends that she has time to entertain, leaving Regina cornered in the hallway, literally trapped in the corner surrounded by strangers.

She's been stared at since she walked through the door. It's most likely because she an unfamiliar face, a new comer. Or it's because they do recognise her and are wondering what level of hell had to freeze over to pry her from her books and pristine schedule.

She's going to go home.

This was a terrible idea.

Navigating through the living room, nudging people aside with her shoulders, she forces her way towards the front door, but she's pulled backwards by hands she can't see the owner of.

"Regina," Neal laughs, popping her into the small circle Emma's group of friends have created.

Emma smiles, "I was just coming to find you, we must have gotten separated in the madness."

Emma has to shout over this sorry excuse for music. It's loud. It's causing a deep, consistent thud in her rib cage along with the beat. It's awful.

"I'm going to go home," Regina shouts back, not horribly, just passing on the message, and she is rewarded with a deep rooted frown.

"You can't go," Emma hands her cup to Neal, he's in a deep conversation with someone on their left. Emma comes closer so talking is a little easier, "We just got here."

"Emma," Regina sighs, pulling down at her dress for a millionth time already since they left the apartment. She's uncomfortable. Jumping so far into the deep end was not the wisest of ideas. "This isn't for me. I'm not the kind of girl who goes to parties."

Emma refuses to accept her answer and takes Regina's hand, pulling her gently through to the kitchen. It's quiet and home to much brighter lighting, their eyes have to take a moment to adjust.

"You've barely given it a chance," Emma reaches into the refrigerator and pops open another beer for herself. She doesn't bother to open one for Regina, it was decided early on that alcohol would not be consumed.

"You vanished," Regina shrugs her shoulders defensively, "And nobody was talking to me."

"Did you try and talk to anyone?"

Emma's raised eyebrow is all knowing.

No, she didn't try and talk to anyone. But it's hard when everyone has come to this party with someone, with their group of established friends or boyfriend and girlfriend. How is she expected to weasel her way into such tight knit circles?

"Walk up to someone and introduce yourself," Emma tells her, sipping on the beer bottle, grinning, reading her mind as usual. "Now, I'm going to go. If you try and talk to someone and nothing comes of it, we will go. I will walk out of this party with you." Emma hops off the counter and back to the kitchen door. "But you have to try at least."

"I'm not very good at this," Regina frowns, tugging again at that stupid dress.

Emma looks back again. "You're an interesting person, Regina. No matter how much your mother convinces you otherwise. Anyone would be lucky to know you." She winks, comforting and playful as always and swings the kitchen door open to leave.

The music wades in loudly again until it swings back closed and she's left alone once again. It would be so easy for her to slip out the back door and head home, but for whatever reason, Emma has made her ponder the other option.

It is senior year and Regina hasn't done much of anything that resembles the traditional college experience, and while it may have not been intentional, Emma opened her up to a challenge, and she's not one to turn down a challenge.

Similarly, nerves aren't usually something that characterises the members of her family, especially the women; powerful, opinionated, strong, or, in the case of her mother, absolutely terrifying.

She doesn't have to drink, she doesn't have to enjoy the music, but by God she will talk to at least one person tonight.

Storming to the door, she's determined and focussed, pushing aside the fear of her mother's disapproval, and puts her entire weight on that kitchen door, opening it with fervour - that is until he door meets a body harshly and firmly.

"Shit," a pained voice groans from behind the door.

"Oh, God," she hisses, adding a string of apologies to her victim, clearly in pain, clutching his face tightly over his nose, groaning more muffled expletives and pained expressions into his palms.

Ice. She should get ice. Scurrying quickly, almost tripping over herself, her face ends up in the freezer searching for a bag of ice and the redness of her face partnered with an intense heat of embarrassment benefiting from the cool air from inside.

The party freezer is filled with ice, no surprise there, so she wraps it in a nearby dish towel and as the she slams it closed, she is met at the door by a tall body with a pained face.

"I am so sorry," she apologises again.

He takes his hand away from the pain and takes the iced offering and the gesture earns her a weak smile and he hops up to sit on the counter in the centre of the kitchen.

He is gorgeous, eyes bluer than the clearest summer sky, sculpted hair a beautiful sandy brown.

Oh great, it's her first night at a party and she just attacked a walking, talking, human version of a beach with a swinging kitchen door.

He hisses pressing the cold relief to his face, Regina frowning, but to her surprise he chuckles, "You were certainly determined walking out of here."

Still embarrassed, apologies spilling from her lips a few more times. Not that they can undo the severity of the very clear bruise forming below his eyes or repair the cracks to her dignity.

She notices the dampness down the front of his shirt, a pattern with not shape, just a wet mess, and behind him on the counter is an empty and dented plastic cup.

"I made you spill your drink," she sulks, still planted in the centre of the kitchen, swaying softly side to side in heeled shoes that she is going to kill Emma for later. Saying that, the blonde's saving would be greatly appreciated in the situation Regina's dropped herself in.

"You really do feel bad about this, don't you?" He asks, letting the ice fall from his face to look at her fully for the first time. The way he eyes her up and down would have made her shy away in any other circumstance, but for whatever reason, she's flattered and forces her blush away."Well, if anyone was going to batter my face with a door, I'm glad it was someone as stunning as you."

Any concealing of a blush is rendered useless at this point as her cheeks flourish with colour quite obviously, along with a small cheeky upturn of her lips.

"I-"

"Let me guess," he quips in quickly, ditching the ice in the nearest counter and coming closer, "You're sorry?" He's confident. He exudes it like a cologne and his smack to the face did nothing to falter it. "Now why do you look like you want to be here as much as I do?"

"Because I don't," she scoffs, folding my her arms tightly. An initial reaction, one that she tries to soften, letting her arms drop quickly, "You don't want to be here?"

"Not particularly," he drawls, hopping down from the counter with a thud, the ice abandoned and melting slowly. He passes her, bee lining for the alcohol near the sink and mixing some sort of concoction into one of the red cups that tend to litter her walk to the library on a Sunday morning.

She had noticed he was making two, but never in a million years imagined it was for her.

He's offering a drink and something's off. She doesn't get offered drinks, but then she doesn't go to parties and look at her now. Still though, she knows better.

"I don't even know your name," she declines the drink, as politely as possible, of course. She's strangely enjoying his company, or maybe it's just the way his accent latches onto the words he speaks.

Insisting, moving the drink closer to her face, he teasingly tells her, "Robin. Robin Locksley."

Now she's caught in a trap, one she laid quite easily for herself. It's a lovely name, she thinks, and it fits him - at least the very little that she knows about him at this point; confident, handsome, a complete flirt, the exact person her mother warned could distract her from her goals.

Even with his name in the memory bank, there's still no way she's taking that drink, though he seems to notice that it wasn't only the issue of his name.

Abandoning his effort, the cup is emptied into the sink and refilled with plain orange juice. He tries to offer it again. This time it's the gesture that throws her and she stares at him blankly, she doesn't flinch or show any indication of reacting.

"It's one thing to choose not to drink alcohol, but I will need to know exactly what orange juice ever did to you to merit being treated this way," he teases, something he has mastered.

Handsome, confident,  _and_  funny it seems.

She thanks him amidst a soft giggle, taking the alcohol free beverage.

It's bitter when she takes a sip, similar to the nagging thought that she can't from slipping passed her lips, "Why are you talking to me?"

When his eyes narrow questioning and she panics a little, scolding herself for asking such a pretentious question.

"Honestly?" He inquires, making her fear simmer and spark up even more curiosity.

She nods, waiting for him and watching as he bites his lower lip, "I have never been so viciously attacked by someone as gorgeous as you and I'm rather captivated. I'm remaining in your presence until you choose to leave. And we seem to be sharing a collective desire to leave this party. Who dragged you?"

"Emma Swan," Regina huffs after a small gulp of her juice, her stomach reeling at his term of endearment. Gorgeous isn't something she used to hearing.

"Wait," Robin sets his drink down and leans on the counter, "Are you Emma's roommate? Quiet, studious, goes to the library on a Saturday night? Straight-A girl?"

Well, there are the list of names she's been referred to multiple times over the last three years.

"I prefer Regina," she licks her lips to rid of any juice that may have lingered there and narrows her eyes.

"Regina. A beautiful name for a beautiful woman." Robin grins, leaning into the counter, one elbow perching him there.

"Are you always such an incessant flirt?" Regina giggles into her cup, eyes darting to the side and he huffs through a smile.

He has a great smile; dimples, a nice row of teeth to add to the collection.

Her father used to always say that you could tell a whole lot about a person by their smile, and if that is true, then Robin Locksley is one happy individual, but she begins to sense some nerves from him, ones that were far from present in the beginning.

"I'm usually not," Robin confesses while rubbing the back of his neck, standing up straighter. "There's just something about you," he bites his bottom lip, "You have rattled my brain. Both physically and mentally it seems."

Regina chuckles lightly when Robin indicates to the door that has aided in their unlikely connection, "I do apologise, again."

"I'm sure you could make it up to me," Robin grins, standing upright all the way and waiting for the question he has geared her towards.

"Is that so?"

"Regina," Emma groans walking back into the kitchen, her timing as impeccable as always. "Have you really not even left this room?"

Regina clears her throat loudly and shifts awkwardly, changing the weight on her legs back and forth. She has never had her parents accidentally barge in on a moment with a boy, though she imagines this is exactly what it feels like.

Her stomach drops and she avoids his eyes, but he finds the humour in it, at least. He chuckles towards her, taking that bottom lip into his teeth again, and creates a distance between them.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Emma mutters and grins instantly, one that's just too big to be considered normal.

"Emma," Robin greets and turns to face her. Regina moves from behind Robin to stand side by side with him, she crosses her arms with pursed lips. "I was just getting to know your roommate."

"I can see that, Locksley," Emma laughs. She comes closer and hugs him, "How was your summer?"

Regina is on the sidelines for a moment as Robin divulges into the details of his summer, he had fun by the sounds of it, a trip home to England to visit his father.

Regina is not forgotten, though. Robin nudges her playfully with his shoulder, "And to round it all off, I was abused by this one."

"Abused?" Emma glares at Regina, a questioning smirk to follow then she notices her purpling bruise.

"Assault to the nose," Robin explains, dramatically covering the tame bruise around his eyes. "She weaponised the kitchen door."

Emma laughs loudly, "I told you to meet friends, not injure them."

"It was obviously an accident," Regina rolls her eyes.

"No harm done," Robin assures, winking over his shoulder to her. "She made quite the first impression, there's no way I could forget meeting her now."

"I imagine not. Anyway," Emma's eyes dart to Regina, "Neal and I were going to head back to the apartment. His boss called and he has to work early tomorrow." Robin's small frown doesn't go unnoticed by either of the girls. "Unless you want to stay?"

She does.

But she shouldn't.

"No," Regina sighs, "I'll come with you both," turning to Robin, she smiles somewhat nervously. "And I'll let you get back to your friends."

"Perhaps next time we can have a conversation that doesn't start with a bruise to my face?"

"Perhaps," she chuckles and walks towards the door, sparing a final look back at him. "Bye," she whispers with a small wave of her hand.

Emma is out on the front lawn after collecting Neal from the masses, and their childish  _ooh_ 's and  _ah_ 's could be anticipated from a mile away.

"Don't," Regina tells them sternly, but not without a laugh and smile to spare, and walks right passed their googling eyes. But she barely makes it to the end of the path.

"Wait!" Robin calls from the doorway, jogging slightly to meet her before she runs has her attention but seems to have lost his train of thought. He's staring at her wordlessly.

"Wow, I really did damage your brain, didn't I?" she jokes, earning a scoff, a light one of course.

"I am trying to decide the best way to ask for your number," he confesses quietly, his effort to keep Neal from hearing a failure. "But every way I could come up with sounded... desperate."

He laughs nervously. So does she.

He's sweet. And while Cora's voice is screaming at her in the back of her skull to scoff at him and walk away, to say something rude and to the point to disinterest him, she decides that tonight is going to be different.

So, to her own surprise, as well as Emma's, she reaches into the small bag hanging from her shoulder for her phone and unlocks her passcode, giving it to him happily.

Robin's grin is monumental, and Emma is trying so hard to bite her tongue or keep an embarrassing level of celebration at bay. Robin enters his number into her phone and creates a new contact.

Regina looks at her screen and narrows her eyes slightly at it. Robin Archer Locksley

"Archer?" She asks.

"Now that will be explained at a later date," he smirks, " _If_  you call me."

He bids his goodbyes to Neal and Emma who have taken the decent approach to give he and Regina a moment of extra privacy. "And goodnight to you, milady."

Like a gentleman, he takes her hand and presses a soft kiss to the soft skin near her knuckles.

"Goodnight."


	6. Undone

**I was asked to write a follow up for chapter 4 (Young Blood). It may be worth reading that first if you haven't but I suppose you could easily fill in the blanks.**

**Enjoy!**

**Prompt: Regina gets grief after Henry catches her and Robin at the movie theatre.**

**Though, I put a little twist on it... Surely they wouldn't get caught twice? Right?**

* * *

Undone

_I want to be the one_

_that makes you come undone_

"Do we have to go in?" Regina asks into the lapel of his coat, rubbing her chilly nose on the red scarf around his neck.

"It is the young lady's birthday," Robin reminds her.

Violet's birthday was unexpected, nonchalantly brought up in conversation the evening before while Henry had dinner with her family. And of course he then had to rally the troops to throw a surprise birthday party for his girlfriend.

Regina even let Henry make good use of their house after the comments made about Granny's  _always_  being where they celebrate and she couldn't say no to his begging eyes. Then began the rushed decorating. He tied balloons to everything he could, covered counter tops in paper plates that she fought against but he was adamant.

Everything was coming together quite nicely. Snow was in her element with the decor and added the nicest touches to the living room. She brought cupcakes as well and other party favours, all while Henry was rushing around excitedly and hopped up on sugar from the cupcakes he and Roland were sneaking every now and then.

Eventually she and Robin left the boys with Snow to sort everything out (not without warning about the cupcake scandal; a sugared up mini outlaw is something that should certainly be avoided) and went on a little wander around town.

It was clear to everyone, especially Robin, that Regina was battling with the need to be supportive but also the ongoing internal struggling of handling her son's googly, loved up eyes at such an age. All of that combined made her pretty useless during the set up. She thinks It's sweet, even Regina can't deny that and she'd never stop him or make him feel like he had to hide his feelings, of course she wouldn't.

Love is unpredictable and comes out of nowhere without an age limit, Regina knows that more than anyone - a stable boy once held her heart and now a thief, anyone who predicted that would have been ridiculed and laughed at.

"It is," she hugs into his warmth outside the mansion, the festivities inside already underway. "Let's go then."

She pries herself away from him and links their fingers together before entering the house already filled with guests. David gives a friendly wave on his way to the kitchen toward the duo to which Regina nods her head curtly, Robin smiles politely.

"Mom!" Henry shouts from the sitting room and beckons them over after they hang their coats, "Over here."

They meet the young boy by the couch. He and violet are perched on the coffee table, something Regina would usually scold him for but it's the only way for her to get a seat, she sits on the end next to Snow, Emma on the other end of the couch.

Regina watches as Robin bids Violet the happiest of birthdays and shuffles away towards the kitchen where it appears that all the gentlemen have snuck off to.

"Happy birthday," Regina offers kindly to Violet. She reaches into her purse and gives her a small wrapped box, a sweet lavender coloured bow around golden paper.

She takes the gift carefully, in awe, and smiles, "Thank you, Regina."

"I hope you like it."

Henry encourages her to rip open the paper. It's a small necklace, a sweet, milky white Opal imbedded in the silver, her birthstone. Violet's jaw drops and she looks at Henry as if to say she can't accept such a gift. But Henry is unclasping the chain and helping Violet put it on before anything can be said. She's speechless.

"You're welcome," Regina chuckles.

Henry moves off of the table, smacks a kiss on his mother's cheek and mumbles another  _thank you_  into her ear before he pulls Violet away to mingle.

"That was very kind of you, Regina," Snow praises.

"It  _is_  her birthday."

"No," Emma agrees with Snow, "You didn't have to do that. That was really nice of you."

Regina accepts the compliment, smiling tightly at them both but the conversation ceases and they watch the guest chat away and enjoy themselves, but Emma keeps looking at her like she has something to say, like there's something bubbling in her stomach just gearing to be released, she's almost red in the face.

It's ignored at first, but when Snow notices she shifts to kick Emma lightly on her leg. They aren't being subtle at all and Regina narrows her eyes at the pair and they cough away any emotion and sit back into the couch.

There's an awkwardness among them and Regina has no idea why. Snow has crossed her arms nervously and Emma is very clearly chewing on her lip and avoiding looking in her direction.

"They look like they're enjoying themselves," Snow notes, signaling to the few teenagers fluttering around the living room.

"They do," Regina agrees. "I'm happy that Henry's hard work paid off."

"So, Regina..." Emma says out of the blue and breathes out a relieved breath, finally letting go of the comment she has, though still red in the face, then she asks through sputtering chuckles, "Seen any good movies lately?"

"Emma!" Mary Margaret scolds, slapping her daughter's hands lightly then whispers, "We told Henry we wouldn't say anything."

Regina instantly turns as red as Emma's stupid, horrid leather jacket and groans inward, curling her body slightly in on the couch, completely and utterly embarrassed.

Oh.  _Oh._  She's going to kill Henry.

She slumps right back into the cushion and now  _she_  is the one folding her arms nervously. Emma notices how uncomfortable she has made Regina and twists her body on the couch to face her.

"Don't be like that," Emma laughs, noticing her slump, "Come on! It's funny." Regina doesn't laugh. "Look, it could have happened to anyone."

"It was mortifying," Regina corrects. "What if he caught  _you_?"

"Wait, so it's true?" Snow asks, starting to giggle herself but swallowing them. "I thought Henry was exaggerating."

"I'm sure he wasn't  _actually_  eating her face, mom," Emma quips.

Regina rolls her eyes as the giggles grow between Emma and Snow. Henry must've mentioned her encounter with Robin at the theatre early in the day while they were preparing for the party and then Snow must've told Emma. Once again, blabbing and making Regina suffer, though nowhere as extreme as before.

"Who knows?" Regina mumbles, shifting her shameful gaze to them and when Snow clamps her mouth and Emma looks away. "Who  _knows_?"

"Uh…" Emma coughs a nervous laugh. "Dad, Hook, Granny, the dwarves... Pretty much everyone, to be honest."

Regina is annoyed, she growls and pushes off the couch and storms back towards the front door.

It's such a silly thing to be upset about and if it happened to Emma or Snow, she would have probably laughed as well, but this is all new enough without the saviour and her one handed fellow chuckling about her behind her back.

"Where are you off to, love?" Robin sneaks up before she can pick off her coat again.

"A walk," she says pointedly, "I need some air."

"Ah, so you have been getting your own grief about last week?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. David and Hook are smirking out the kitchen door at the pair until Regina glares at them as a warning.

Robin doesn't let it faze him, grabs her hand and takes her to the ground floor bathroom, the one just by her study. He doesn't say anything and she worries.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?" Regina asks,. The smirk on his face confuses her. It's playful, flirty, suggestive - similar to the one he beamed in the middle of the movie. "What did those fools say to you?"

"Oh," he chuckles and edges closer.

There's no space between their bodies almost, and he nudges her back a final step then her ass is pressed against cupboard under the sink, their torsos glued and he continues to smirk down to her shortened height. The moan in her throat is unstoppable, despite her efforts to soften it, and he reacts to it fondly. "He clued me into a little tradition at parties, something to do with sneaking off to the bathroom with your love. Might I say, I enjoy the traditions of this world..."

Regina scoffs his sentence to an end, but she's slightly intrigued, becoming more and more intoxicated on his warmth, his breath, so the scoff ends up being rather unconvincing. He cranes his neck and starts to nibble and kiss along her jaw line, drawing out the shallow breaths that he loves to hear.

It starts relatively innocently, but the second he catches her earlobe in his teeth gently, she throws all caution to the wind and moans a deep, low, throaty moan from the depths of her lungs.

Her palms lean against the sink, holding up quite a bit of her weight while he continues to tease around her face and neck with his lips, dragging them tortuously and slowly around in a constant search for uncharted skin.

"Robin," her breath hitches, her knuckles turn white gripping the ceramic bowl, then she's silenced by his lips on hers. He's gentle at first, but he doesn't wait long to tease his tongue along her bottom lip, begging from entrance.

She sighs into him, letting him in, soaking up the affection.

His knees bend and he reaches down to circle his arms just below the curve of her bottom, hoisting her up to balance on the edge of the sink. Her arms loop around his neck, legs following suit around his waist and she draws him in closer.

Her shirt is riding up, she can feel the cooler air at the top of her pants, so Robin takes advantage and glides his palms across her cooling skin, runs up and under her shirt, tickling her skin, teasing around the back clasp of her bra, dragging his calloused fingertips around to her abdomen. Her stomach clenches - it tickles, and she huffs a single chuckle into his kiss.

Pulling away he mumbles an apology, an unnecessary, "Sorry."

He begins the kisses against her jaw again, nipping gently at her skin, but soothing them quickly with a kiss or a tender lick, dragging his lips down and down, as far as the opening in her shirt will let him, which is surprisingly far. He's taken the risk to squeeze against her breasts softly, under her shirt but over her bra.

She gasps and leans her head back against the mirror, locking him closer, tightening the grip of her legs around his hips, and neither of them hear the door click open.

"Are you serious right now?" Henry squeals from the doorway, covering his eyes with a slap against his face.

Robin pulls his hands from the boy's mother and lets her sit up straight on the sink. She readjusts her shirt, clearing her throat. "Haven't either of you heard of a  _lock_?" Henry groans, refusing to let the image be seen.

Of course this would happen to them. The second she commits to something exciting, there's someone waltzing in and flipping her stomach around.

"Sorry, Henry," Regina gulps breathlessly. How could they have been so stupid as to forget to lock the door? "We'll be out in a minute."

"You better."

Henry clicks the door closed and Robin looks just as startled as she feels, so there's that at least, but he starts laughing,  _really_  laughing. She'd be wrong to not note the hilarity, once again she has scarred her son and for whatever reason, she is happy about it. So she joins Robin in the laughter, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, at Henry.

They chuckle warmly together until they hear Snow profess loudly, a disbelieving, " _No, they weren't!"_  Followed by a series of loud, howled laughter, Emma's and David's the most distinctive; Henry didn't wait this time to tell them of the unfortunate event. They are going to have a number of staring eyes and knowing looks to face when they leave.

Robin clears his throat and tries to step away from between her legs and help her down from the sink, but to his surprise she doesn't let him. She tugs him in closer and grins in a way he has never seen her lips grin before.

She is done letting small interruptions keeping her from the thrill and fun. Biting her bottom lip, she fists into his shirt and jerks herself up so their torsos are pressed together.

"What  _are_  you doing, milady?" Robin asks as Regina peppers kisses up his neck, scratching at his jawline with her teeth, repaying the earlier favour.

"It's not as if we weren't already caught," she breaths against his skin, "No one will be barging in again any time soon. We have a couple more minutes…"


	7. Easy To Love

**No prompt, I just got super feelsy. Who doesn't love Robin obsessing over what he loves about Regina? Just a little short thing and as always, the mistakes are mine! Enjoy!**

* * *

Easy To Love

_Well I was the one who showed you the sky_

_Just let me be easy to love_

It's like that silly game he used to play as child. It didn't have a name, at least not one that he can recall. It was simply a group of young boys challenging each other to spin around as fast as they could, to keep going until their bodies wouldn't let them anymore, and the last sucker spinning was the winner.

There was no logic to it, no reward, unless he counts the two or three minutes of bragging rights that occurred, but the feeling that he was always left with is exactly what is infiltrating his veins right now; dizziness, lightheadedness. His stomach is filled with soft, tingling butterflies, growing ever more intense.

It would be easy to pass off the feeling as something else, finding reasoning in a number of different places. Dinner might not have settled with him very well, maybe he is just awfully tired after their long day. But if he were to strip away all the excuses, filter them out, the only thing left would be Regina.

Her soft, bare back is pressed delicately against his chest tonight as they are wrapped in the warmth of the duvet. The way she is soundly sleeping allows her breathing pattern to gently create such a sweet rhythm against his ribcage, the feeling of it melodically beginning to replicate his own intake and exhale of breath. She is in a safe place, he can tell. Her face is an image of pure contentedness as she sleeps, no worries battling around mind, just calm thoughts.

He props his head up in his hand, leaning on his elbow to keep him high, just enough so he can gaze down and admire her in the soft light from his bedside table. And the butterflies in his stomach, good God how they are fluttering like mad, frenzied and tickling him madly when he traces over the lines and curves.

Where they root from exactly tonight is an impossible mystery, there are far too many things about her that makes his stomach flutter on a daily basis.

Maybe it's her face, soft and gentle, and even though she looks as stunning as ever after intricately painting it perfectly, it's when it's bare that Robin notices those beautiful, raw details; a wrinkle here and there, evidence that she has laughed or frowned, or her scar, such a vital part of what makes her so gorgeous.

Then again, perhaps it's her hair. Her long, swooping tendrils the colour of a raven's feather. Or how she smells like apple and cinnamon at any time of day. Or how her eyebrows narrow slightly and playfully when he does something stupid, falls victim to something silly.

Though it's most likely that smile. Her sweet lips curve upward in a display of happiness and he's gone. Without a doubt, all she has to do is smile at him and he realises that she is the easiest person to love and the hardest person to imagine living without.

He does this often. When she is sleeping, he admires her and counts his lucky stars, trying to pinpoint the exact moment he knew, trying to identify the split second that his heart found a home within her soul.

There was that one day in the park. The trees around them were beginning to brown and detach, their sons were sharing a special moment by the water, and there was this instant as the sun began to set, just as the sky became a swirl of blues, pinks and oranges. Sunlight caught her eye, which are naturally a deep brown that he will gladly get lost in, but in a split second, just as the most wondrous of rays hit, brown became the brightest gold he had ever seen, greater than any treasure he could ever imagine. And in that second, he wanted to tell her he loved her, the first time he ever would have muttered those words.

It'd be a crime to discredit any other moments though, like the evening that he heard her really,  _truly_  laugh for the first time; a loud, uninhibited, tear inducing fit of giggles. When she's comfortable and surrounded by people she isn't afraid to let loose with, her laugh is the most magnificent sound that could grace the earth. Then there are even the moments when she cries. It pains him to see her weep, there's no doubt there. His heart aches when she feels so low that her body uncontrollably leaks and whimpers, but the first time she ever let herself go and allowed for his comfort, he was left in awe at the way she was opening up to him, letting him in.

He is startled when her palm reaches up and cups his cheek. "What's wrong?" she whispers, her voice light and airy after being asleep, but her eyes are open and alert after watching him get lost in the thoughts of her for a second or two.

He bites his bottom lip, huffs a single laugh through his nose and tries to fight the blush after being caught. "Not a thing in the world."

Her confused smirk is full of amusement, but instead of questioning him she palms from his cheek down to his shoulder, over his arm to his elbow and pulls his arm tightly around her front. He drops his head from his hand, slips that arm under her neck so she can rest on him. He takes a second to pull her back flat against him and settles his chin between her neck and shoulder.

He inhales a little, swallowing down a yawn so he can press a kiss just below her ear, holding his lips there, warming her skin.

She sighs faintly, her muscles relaxing into him and the mattress, "I love you too."


	8. Mirrors

Mirrors

_And I can't help but notice,_

_You reflect in this heart of mine_

Lately, whenever she looks in the mirror, Regina doesn't see much of anything but a heap of expectations: an exam grade that could be higher, a schedule that could be more refined and perhaps a few imperfections she thinks exist when she focuses on her body.

She could spend hours staring at her face and still feel unsure, not a clue who she's looking at, so much so that sometimes she tries to catch herself by surprise. A sudden glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror or a reflective window on the way to class, each time hoping that  _maybe_  she'll recognise herself.

Henry, her father, is Regina's favourite mirror. He casts a reflection of her that she loves to see, the one of the girl she once was. He knows her better than anyone, the only person she truly considers family and she can always count on him to stay the same; the only constant in her life.

Henry's visiting this afternoon. A lovely surprise but only a quick, last minute lunch that he requested earlier that morning. She had worried at first, speculating madly at any and all possibilities, but when he fails at his casual attempt to bring up Spring Break, she realises where the spontaneity has stemmed from - her friends and their relentless attempts to include her in everything.

It would have been a lovely, new adventure for them. She's never been camping before and quite frankly the idea of a week away from everything school-related is tempting - it would be extremely therapeutic - but then again, Spring Break is countless hours that she could utilise on school work and volunteering to appease Cora.

Emma had suggested the trip just after Christmas. Well, Robin had suggested it but rounded up Emma and Neal to work to convince Regina to come along. Though, to no one's surprise, she immediately turned it down, ignoring Emma's whining about how it is their last chance at a vacation together mixed with childish threats to call Henry and beg him to let Regina go herself, and it turns out Emma played out on the threat.

Her mother would ridicule her for even thinking of going anywhere that could distract her, let alone traveling to do something Cora would consider so  _common_. Cora would claw Henry's eyes out if she knew he was here trying to convince Regina to go.

No matter what the situation or how Regina handles it, everything always ends up revolving around Cora.

"It's your final Spring Break," Henry reminds her after a small sip of his espresso, the clinking of the small ceramic cup drawing her eyes. "You should go on this trip with your friends."

"Mother won't allow it," Regina sighs, thumbing around the rim of her mug on the small table. Usually a cappuccino would warm her heart and perk up her mind but she's already had eight cups of coffee today, so the mere thought of a sip sickens her stomach, let alone the nerves.

"Let me deal with your mother," he begs, distraught at the thought of her missing out on yet another college experience. "This Robin fellow was very brave to call. You wouldn't want his efforts to go to waste."

"Wait,  _Robin_?" Regina's eyes widen and lift away from the foamed milk and dissolving cocoa powder while she almost chokes on her words. "I thought it would have been Emma. What did he say?"

Henry laughs, amused by her stutter. "He must care for you very deeply to risk calling the house. He's lucky I answered," he tells her, and it turns to amused chuckling when her eyes bug out even further. She's slowly dying inside and counting Robin's lucky stars for him. "I want you to go on this trip. You deserve a break."

"I-"

"Don't make me demand it of you," Henry grins as he raises an eyebrow, all fun and games, pursing his lips. "You've got a family here who really care about you. A man who is quite willing to go the extra mile for you. Why wouldn't you want to spend a week with them?"

"Robin's always sticking his nose in places he shouldn't," she sighs, but when Henry laughs at her denial, she says through a tight smile, "I'll think about it?"

"I'll take that for now," he agrees. "Now finish your coffee and I'll drive you home."

* * *

 "You're coming?" Emma is waiting by the front door to their apartment, perched just inside but trying - and failing - to fake breathlessness to shy away from any indication that she's been waiting anxiously.

"You knew?" Regina asks, dropping her backpack by the circular coat rack at the door. She's slightly angry, her voice strained. "You knew Robin was going to call my mother and you  _let_  him? What if she answered instead of my father? She would have killed us both, how could-"

"But she didn't!" Emma stops the accusatory rambling and Regina's lips clamp closed. "Did my favourite father step up?" Emma and Henry Sr. get along much more than Regina ever could have imagined. Anytime Henry comes to town, Emma is almost always invited and they chat up a storm. It doesn't surprise Regina at all that he and Emma have been working up a plan behind her back. "Are you getting to go or not?"

Regina huffs, catching her breath. "He told me to go." Emma's eyes light up, her smile widens and she is seconds from her childish fist pump and giggle, though not before Regina bursts the bubble. "But I can't." Emma's about to argue but Regina stops her in her tracks. "I can't go on a road trip knowing that my mother will spend the week ridiculing and making him feel awful for caring about what I want."

"Ah, so you  _want_  to come?" Emma rebuts cheekily.

"Emma…"

"Look, Henry is one of the strongest people I know and he would die for you. He wants you to be happy. Let him do this one thing to give that to you." Regina is about to choose the next excuse off of her list of many before Emma says, "He has already been here and told me that I've to get you there even if you disagree. I was given permission to put you in the trunk if I have to." She grips at Regina's shoulders and playfully shakes her from side to side. "He  _really_  wants you to go. It's going to be so much fun. It's a week to relax with the outdoors, s'mores and your best friends. And just think, when we are old and hag-like, we will look back on this week as the defining moment of our lives." A total exaggeration but nothing new where Emma is concerned.

"A defining moment?" Regina laughs.

"Yes," Emma nods, dropping her hands to grasp at her own hips, "Now, do I need to trap you in the trunk or would you prefer a comfy seat?"

* * *

She and Robin sit in the back of the car whilst Neal and Emma sit up front, bickering back and forth, complaining about each other's music choices and picking playful fights with one another. Regina wants to chuckle, to share an eye roll with Robin but she hasn't been able to look at him since she buckled herself into the seat.

They met by accident; a case of wrong place, perfect time and they clicked immediately, albeit a feisty click. Much sass and sarcasm shared from each party but it was such a weightless relief to have finally found someone who can dish it back just as fervently as she could. From then on, Regina has constantly tried to bury that coiling feeling in her stomach when he's around, ignoring the way he gazes at her when he doesn't think she's looking. Their connection is there and vivid enough for strangers to see but she is as stubborn as they come.

After almost four hours of mind-numbing silence and awkward almost conversations, they reach their destination, though Emma reminds them they have a bit of walking to do to find the perfect spot to set up camp. Robin very politely helps Regina slip her large hiking back on her shoulders, pulling down to tighten the straps to make her more comfortable. She thanks him quietly, the first word she's mumbled all morning besides the odd agreement to anything Emma asked on their drive.

Emma rolls her eyes when Regina turns away from Robin but chooses not to stress it any further. She and Neal walk away in one direction leaving Robin to walk next to Regina, still silent as they weave through the trees. If the silence isn't the cause of the pit in her stomach, it could very well be the several bugs she's almost swallowed or the branches she's afraid she might trip over. There's feeling out of place and then there's  _this_.

"You strike me as the sort who has never been camping before," he acknowledges with a soft chuckle, a slight start to a conversation.

"I'm not one for outdoor living," she answers politely, swatting a bug against her arm. "You are, I take it?"

"I love being outside, especially a forest like this one," Robin breathes in heavily and smiles through tight lips.

"Why?" She asks, puffing out a breath instead of taking one in like he had.

"I like the quiet," he says and she laughs lightly at him, letting it all succumb to silence again. They crunch along the forest floor together, almost stopping a few times but Emma keeps insisting they need to find the  _perfect_  spot. Regina wants to complain and tell Emma to just pick somewhere, that it's all the same, but she bottles it up.

"I overstepped with your father didn't I?" Robin asks after a third rejection from Emma's lips. Regina tries to fake surprise, pretending she hasn't a clue what he means, but he reads right through her lie. "You've barely been able to look me in the eyes since we got in the car."

She sighs heavily. "It's not that I don't appreciate the lengths you went to, but I can't decide if Emma just wasn't stern enough in telling you why it was a bad idea or whether you actually have a death wish."

"In my defense, Emma didn't let me in on everything. I knew you had a strict parent but from what she's filled me in on since then…" He coughs away the choice words he has to describe her mother. "It wasn't my smartest move."

"You got lucky that my father answered," Regina tells him just as Emma exclaims excitedly that they should pitch their tents here,  _finally_.

"I did," Robin continues, "But you're here now, so why don't we just push all my questionable decisions and have some fun?"

"Why though?" She stops in her tracks, the curiosity no longer willing to reside in secret. "Why go to all that trouble for a week of camping when you know I'm going to be completely out of my element?"

Emma calls them over, tells them to hurry, and Robin continues to walk Emma's way when he confesses, "I think you're cute when you're flustered," with the biggest of smirks.

She scoffs through a smile to distract from the burning blush beneath her skin and follows him into their resting place for the next few days.

* * *

 "Do you need a hand?" Robin asks Regina as she puffs her hair out of her face angrily and grits a harsh  _nope_  through her teeth whilst she tries to master the art of putting up a tent.

There are poles that are different lengths, colour coded for whatever reasons, there's bunches of waterproofed fabric everywhere and no clear path to finish the puzzle. His smug face is drawn to hers, watching as she struggles and… Is he laughing at her? He has the audacity to sit back on a log and laugh at her struggling. She groans, a sound accompanied by a firm, "Fine. You can help."

He jumps to his feet again, by her side in an instant with the same smug grin, muttering "All you had to do was ask, love," and he navigates the task in seconds, the mess beginning to look like shelter as each second passes, so she immediately feels silly for the bubbling of intense confusion she'd suffered. "Hold this." He takes her hand and guides her to latch on one side of the tent, gripping onto poles and holding them near the ground. He stands and shimmies to the other side making sure that everything is right, no twists in the fabric, no rips that could let rain through, and when all seems dandy he tells her, "Right, let's hammer it down."

He shows her first, hitting a metal peg into the ground with a rock he utilises. It's easy enough and she does it well, battering the peg firmly into the mud after one firm swing. When he comes to check on her work he almost seems disappointed, but not at her efforts. He can't correct anything, so he hits it again for extra measure and tells her she did a good job. Her lips twitch upward into a grin when he clears his throat, unable to tease her any further. "No need to be so surprised," she chuckles.

"Ah, but you always seem to surprise me," he smiles, leaving her to unpack her bag and sleeping bag alone, but not without sparing a final look over his shoulder, one she notices and he flicks his head away again after catching her eyes.

"You did it," Emma praises breathlessly, coming up behind her and dragging Neal by the hand, their clothes much more disheveled than before and not from a casual hike.

"Never thought I'd see this," Neal sasses. "I thought you'd be here for days."

"Robin helped me," Regina replies, for she gives credit where credit is due.

Emma smirks, "Did he now?"

"Please don't start this again…" Regina groans while unbuckling the clasps on her backpack. Not a day has gone by since the day she and Robin met that Emma hasn't smirked or muttered something under her breath, usually something about them needing to  _wake up_  and  _see what's right in front of them._

"Alright, alright," Emma backs off, refusing to allow a repeat of every other Robin-centred conversation they've had. "Do you need help unpacking?" She asks, but Regina shakes her head and shoos her away.

* * *

 Their first day is quiet for the most part, Robin having left on a walk a couple of hours ago. He'd asked whether anyone wanted to join him, but Regina had declined, telling him that she wasn't ready to venture out past the camp quite yet and that was the truth, but she got wrapped up in her reading not long after he left. When he returns, she catches him with her eyes. It was good for him, the hike; he looks refreshed and happy, a sense of peace about him. He waves her way shyly when she peels her nose from her textbook and he disappears inside his tent to change.

She sticks back into her textbook for as long as the sunlight allows, but when the campfire becomes their only light source, she slaps the pages closed and drops the book into the dirt beside her. She notices Robin heading her way from the centre of camp, a mug in each of his hands. "You're studying?" He asks as sits next to her on the log and gives her the steaming mug of what smells like peppermint tea, her favourite.

"I've a lot of work to finish when we're back." She tries to sip the scalding liquid but pulls away when it stings. "I'll push it down, I promise. I told Emma I'd try to have fun."

He drinks from his own mug and stares at Emma and Neal as they canoodle by the campfire. He catches the title of her book, some fancy politics subject. "Do you even want to be a politician?" He asks, never once trying to gain eye contact, just a simple question on his mind.

"God no," she blurts. It shoots from her mouth before she even finished processing his question. He twists his head towards her sadly and his frown dips deeper when she explains, "It's what my mother wants."

"But what about what  _you_  want?" He quizzes her lightly. She's very rarely asked what she wants. Only told what's best for her and pressured into career choices,  _life_  choices that others make for her. She frowns heavily herself and he sighs sadly, growing more and more agitated. "Your mum is a piece of work." The anger bubbles just beneath his skin and, out of respect, he tries to keep it at bay. "You are such a wonderful person, Regina. I don't understand why she wouldn't simply be over the moon to have a daughter like you."

"She's just doing what's best for me," she whispers, repeating what she has been taught to think, an ongoing conditioning.

"By scaring you shitless so she can control you?" He counters, completely reflexive and he catches himself. "Sorry," he mumbles and he takes a breath, another sip of his tea. "I just hate that you get so stressed."

"I thought you said I'm cute when I'm flustered?" she asks, smiling coyly in any efforts to lighten the mood, but it fails.

"There's a huge difference between flustered and burdened," Robin sighs. He twists his entire body to face her more fully. "There's a person in there," he presses a finger to her shoulder, "A person I have seen little glimpses of. She is smart and has quite the sense of humour. She only surfaces for seconds at a time but I know she's there. The light in your eyes changes."

Her father has always told her the same thing, always mentions that whenever he visits, that he senses a coldness, nothing like the fire-filled girl he raised. "I know…" she admits. "I miss her sometimes. I used to be so… wild and carefree. I'd ride horses as fast as I could. I used to love getting my hands dirty."

"So you  _were_  an outdoorsy girl," he edges in closer to her, eager for her to spill more.

"I suppose," she agrees. "A long time ago."

"Before," he starts, pressing his mug down into the dirt, "You asked me why I like being outdoors."

"You like the quiet," she repeats the false answer he'd given and she shivers, gripping onto the hot mug in her hands. The fire is quite far from them and the sun has long set, the temperature dropping to a chilly number.

Robin shakes his head, admitting "It's more than that." Being the gent he is, Robin slips out of his jacket and swings it around Regina's shoulders, giving her his warmth and engulfing her in the scent that is both easily isolated but indistinguishable from their surrounding; a fresh, soily scent. "Nature teaches you that nothing is wrong with you." He gains her attention fully and she listens intently. "Nature doesn't have a bad thing to say, it doesn't belittle you. Time stops out here. No deadlines, no need to book study rooms. Being amongst the trees reminds you who you are. You begin to feel comfortable in your own skin. You get to strip away everything that society tells you that you have to be. There are no mirrors here, just the earth and the sky and all the beauty in between."

"No mirrors…" she repeats breathily. Two words and suddenly she knows what she wants. "You've no idea what I'd do for a life without mirrors." Emma calls over for Regina, announcing that she is going to bed. They'd decided to bunk up, the girls in one tent and the boys in the other. The only thing Neal didn't do was actually whine outright, his disappointment plastered on his face, but he respected Emma's suggestion; it was her friendly attempt to reduce any awkwardness. "I'll be right there," Regina calls back, smiling tightly at Robin. "I guess it's time for bed."

Robin loops their arms together and helps her stand, Regina offering his jacket back and he hangs it over his free arm. Neal is putting out the fire, Emma switching on the few torches they have so everyone can crawl into their cocoons.

"Goodnight," Regina offers kindly, thanking him when he takes the mug from her hands and puts it by everyone else's.

"Goodnight," Robin steps in slowly, dips his face close to her own and presses a sweet kiss to her cheek. "Perhaps this week we can bring about this outdoorsy Regina you are so fond of."

She blushes, but it goes mostly unnoticed in the darkness. "Perhaps," she answers and kneels to crawl into the tent.

* * *

 Emma snores like mad. The loudest, most obnoxious sound and combined with the chill she's not used to, she is only now drifting off into any time of deep sleep. There is a sliver of daylight arising, she can see it through her tent but she doesn't care, she is going to treasure the final few hours she can muster.

"Regina?" a voice hisses outside her tent. Her eyes pop open and she wonders if she imagined it, but it happens again.

"Robin?" She asks quietly, sitting up when he unzips the opening to her tent. He kneels to peer inside and laughs at Emma's loud snore. "I was  _just_  about to fall asleep." She'd be mad but he's fully dressed and looks like he's been up for a while, so intrigue takes over. "Why are you awake?"

"Come with me," he offers his hand inside the tent.

"What?"

"Come on," he stretches his arm out straight towards her, "Live a little."

She takes his hand, letting him pull her upright and slip her shows on, grabbing a throw even though the warmth of the day is slowly sneaking in. "Where are we going?" She asks, following his every step out of their camp.

"Shhh, you'll see," he turns his head back as he walks. "Just enjoy the view."

They walk in silence just like yesterday, only this time it's colossally more comfortable and she takes his advice and actually soaks in the surrounding until they reach where he's taking her. Their destination takes her breath away, arriving in her line of sight like magic. It is almost silver in colour, shimmering like teardrops and it's shaped like a perfectly flat disc. The most angelic lake she's ever seen, no sound from the shimmering emptiness around them. The edges are lined with pine trees and when she takes in the biggest breath her lungs will let her, she smiles happily at the minty sensation.

She and Robin inch closer to the edge and together they take in the idyllic scene; the golden tint on the face of the lake as the morning sun rises, the sickly sweet smell of the green grass, the sweeping natural beauty.

"It reminded me of you," he admits, shying away from the gaze she sets on him. "Calm and collected on the surface, an entire world within, and the only way to see it is to leap."

She looks out across the undisturbed water, no ripples, no movements. She thinks of the trouble her father went through to make this happen, her three friends who want nothing for her to live a life outside of printed words on overpriced paper.

Maybe it's the peace that inspires her or the sudden unprecedented, rebellious desire to create some chaos for once in her life, but she drops her throw to the ground and reaches to pull her shirt over her head in one quick movement.

"What- what are you doing?" He asks, his eyes bugging open and shying away from her politely.

"You wanted outdoorsy and for me to leap, did you not?" she huffs as she loosens the drawstring of her sweats and drops them to the ground too. She stands in her unmatched bra and panties, nothing fancy or sexy but he still has to force himself not to look. He's still obviously confused, so she takes the necessary strides towards the water and she throws herself in as far as she can with one leap. She is swallowed by the peaceful water, creating ripples and waves as she pushes up to the surface again with the most carefree laugh she's ever let him hear.

She treads water and looks back to the shore. Robin's jaw has dropped open slightly but not without the inkling of a grin. "We were only meant to look," he jokes.

"Are you coming in or what?" She shouts, raising her eyebrow, a silent challenge shared between them, one that he's too stubborn to reject. He follows suit and his shirt lands next to hers, his jeans dropped, shoes toed off and he makes the same leap she did, splashing her face without much of a warning.

When he surfaces, he leans back and lets himself float easily on the surface, "Who knew you had it in you." She copies him, density playing its role and letting them float side by side while staring up high into the blue sky that only  _just_  compares to the blue of his eyes. His fingers link with hers to keep them from drifting apart and they watch as the sky changes colour, clouds passing, the sun moving at such a slow pace.

For what feels like an eternity, but the sweetest of eternities, she just breaths. She lets her lungs fill and deflate, his fingers squeezing every so often, giving her a soft tug closer. Her mind is notably clearer, every small assignment put on the back burner, every snippet of Cora's nagging voice silenced and replaced with the soothing movement of water in her ears.

Robin's the first to suggest climbing out and though she's loathe to ever leave this spot in her lifetime, she can feel her fingertips beginning to prune, so she agrees and together they swim to the edge. They climb out, helping each other where needed until they reach their clothes, beginning to awkwardly dress their wet skin in dry clothes, the fabric clinging to their cool skin.

He laughs when he looks back to the lake after tying his shoe, "You never cease to surprise me." It's the second time he's praised her for that since they arrived. "You're worth so much more than you think, do you know that?"

She taken by surprise. Only her father tells her just how much she means to him, but for Robin to say something so kind, meaningful, and downright sweet tugs at her heart. "Thank you," she sighs softly, the smallest of smiles on her face.

"I mean it," he asserts, stepping forward into her space, almost bumping her nose with his own. Her breath hitches when he whispers, "You're stunning, in every way."

It must be the tail end of her rebellious mood because she goes with her gut in and her craving in an instant when she closes the gap between them, returning the favour by stealing his own breath away when she places the softest feather of a kiss to his lips, something she's wanted to give into for months on end.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, not even an inch from the kiss she just left.

Robin sighs contentedly, shaking his head and reaching up to cup her cheek, "Please don't apologise for that."

"Why did you really go to all this trouble to get me here?"

He licks his lips, bumps against her nose, and tells her, "Every day Emma, Neal and I watch you slave away at something you don't want for yourself. We force ourselves to ignore the sobs the erupt from your bedroom after she calls you for whatever reason she thinks is okay to belittle you. I told you yesterday what nature means to me, maybe I'd hoped that it could help you see yourself the way everyone else does because you deserve nothing less. Everyone deserves to feel at home in the world and kindness is the best way to allow for that... and I really  _do_  think you're cute when you're flustered."

She smiles again, shaking and blinking away the pinching at the back of her eyes that spark. Robin inches in close, claiming her soft lips in another tender kiss, letting her sigh into its sentiment whilst he brings her closer.

"About time!" Emma squeals from the trees behind them, pulling Neal towards them through his sleepy stumbling. Neal perks up, wolf whistles and all, making Regina snort into their kiss.

"Typical," Robin mutters jokingly, dotting a small kiss on her nose. Emma runs past them both, fully clothed and launches herself into the lake, Neal sprinting right behind her and slapping a hand to Robin's shoulder. "I guess we are swimming today…"

"I don't know..." Regina turns away, "...I have a few chapters I need to read."

Robin chortles, throwing his head back slightly before reaching down to lift her off the ground, tossing her carefully over his shoulder, ignoring her shrieked pleas to be put down between laughs until they are both underwater again, fully clothed and not a care in the world.

She's never felt like she belonged anywhere for years. She battles constantly within herself and feels so alone sometimes that it'd make anyone with a heart of stone weep for days, but all along there has been this support she didn't know existed, friends who are more like family than her own flesh and blood.

They're the people who turn up when you least expect it. The people who hold your hand without being asked. The people who take you on mysterious hikes at the earliest crack of sunlight. They're the kind of mirrors that you want in your life, the ones that help you understand your reflection instead of just casting one and the greatest thing about family is that it doesn't matter where you are, when you're with them you're home.


	9. A Glimpse Into Christmas

Robin is new to all this Christmas malarkey. It's far from anything he's ever experienced before, the concept puzzling. At first he perceived it to be quite the nuisance, the very thought alone of draping twinkling lights, glimmering baubles and shimmering tinsel around a tree that already encased such beauty was beyond him.

Roland's smile, though. That did it. All three of them, Henry, Roland and Regina just had this glow about them, dazzling smiles that could right any wrong, peacefulness and joy dancing through the room so naturally. So he gave in to the festive gimmicks. He hummed along giddily to overly jingly tunes and sickly sweet lyrics, wrapped thin sheets of paper around toys (not with ease, let it be known) and even dragged heavily packed boxes filled with tinsel and other decorative treasures into the sitting room, continually shooing Regina away at her every attempt to help.

As the tree decorating was underway, he winked at Regina after catching her sneaking the popcorn meant for stringing around the tree from the bowl when the boys weren't looking. He smiled brightly as Henry walked Roland through the significance of each dangling ornament; the Hulk figure that Regina only allows because of Henry's unyielding affinity, the shining round baubles with years scribbled on them beautifully, a golden horse - Regina's favourite - and Robin's heart fluttered without warning when she wrapped her arms around Roland to hoist him high to place the brightest star atop their festive creation.

For the most part, Henry tried to fill him in on all the small traditions at this time of year; the decor, the music, the foods, the gift exchange and it began to grow on him with time. The overall spirit around town was marvellous - clearly the magic of Christmas that Henry spoke about.

Everyone was in the most giving of moods. Their smiles beyond compare, their families the main focus. The fashion catches his eye too. It's not necessarily Christmas-like, but he'd be a fool if he didn't acknowledge how he loves the sight of Regina in her navy woollen coat, the fabric hugging every curve that he worships, her neck bundled up nicely within a gorgeous patterned scarf. She always looks so warm and content and that's all he wants, after all.

Then there's Regina's recipes, perfected year after year. Peppermint bark, gingerbread houses (that raised a few bouts of laughter when recalling her more evil days), an absolute overload of sugar. Her eggnog, though. Good lord, it's heavenly. After the boys go to bed, she spikes the thick, gooey goodness with whiskey, always whiskey for him, and her eggnog to rum ratio is generous to say the least. It leaves his belly warm, his mind buzzed, similar to the glorious mixture of feelings he has when he positively ravishes her. They are due another bout of adoration soon, obviously without the close call like the one they had this morning thanks to a very excited young man; it was just seconds after he slid her silky night dress back down her body as she caught her breath quietly, as he was kissing up over the fabric, when Roland knocked a playful tune on the hardwood of the door. She laughed when he growled, playfully frustrated, as his forehead thumped lightly just below her sternum before they scurried around to ready themselves properly to go downstairs.

Roland was so enthusiastic, he tugged on Regina's hand all the way downstairs while Henry slumped behind them, rubbing at his tired eyes. After everyone woke up completely, the boys were as happy as can be, bouncing off of each other, and they laughed so easily, joking like they've forever been brothers. Henry is immeasurably great with Roland and both Regina and Robin find themselves staring in awe, completely content.

As wrapping paper was ripped from the parcels under the tree, Robin gathered Regina in his lap. His legs circled around her hip and stretched in front while she sat comfortably between them, her back pressed flush against his torso. The position was perfect for him to tuck his chin into the curve of her shoulder and stifle sweet laughter against the skin of her neck as they watch the boys. When when he finished gulping down his hot coffee, she could very easily slip her mug into his own hand to share what she had left.

It was utter perfection.

It still is.

Regina made breakfast while Robin and Henry tried to decipher the cryptic instructions on a toy Roland so desperately wanted to play with. They got it eventually, but not until after Regina giggles at their frustration, offers her magical abilities only to be politely declined and after brunch, the boys sit together and play, Robin finally getting to breathe, spending his undisturbed moment to watch Regina scrub away at the plates and mugs that she refused to let anyone help her with.

It's time. The gift he and Henry have spent weeks trying to procure is finally in the yard, yearning for its unveiling.

"Do you think we can let the dishes rest for a moment?" He asks, creeping up behind her and dotting the softest of kisses just shy of the neckline of her red cashmere sweater. It feels like heaven on his fingertips as he brushes down her sides to her hips. She's only two plates more to do but she gives into his request, turning to face him with the aid of his hands swivelling her hips around.

"Thank you," he smiles brightly, dropping a tender smooch to her lips.

"What is so important that I couldn't finish?" She quizzes as her eyebrow arches and her lips tighten into a cheeky grin.

"I have a surprise for you." He hums into a second kiss to her cheek, leaving the utmost splendid of smiles on her face to gaze into.

"You do?" Her question is breathless, almost disbelieving and her arms stiffen slightly. His heart aches as her eyes reflect something close to fear when he realises that she has never received a pleasant surprise for the most part of her life.

He lifts both of his hands to cup her face, his thumbs caressing the smooth skin of her cheeks. "You're going to love it, I promise." Her eyes regain some light, the worry melting away into the chocolatey brown and she smiles tightly. "But, I need you to close your eyes." Her face scrunches playfully, then he laughs, "Come on," while he circles his fingers around each of her wrists and lifts her hands to cover her eyes. "I'll guide you. Do you trust me?"

He waves his hand in front of her covered eyes, a final measure to make sure she's not peeking. He could have easily opted for a loose scarf around her eyes, but he knows all too well her fear of being blindfolded. He never had have to ask why - he'd read that part of her story with clenched knots in his stomach - his love bound and sightless, the very weapon he relies on aimed at her mercilessly, her only saving grace being Princess Snow's last second decision.

"Always," she sighs forward into him slightly. She's relaxed, so he's excited, but also nervous, butterflies swirling around in varying waves of magnitude. His arm loops around her back and he navigates the way for her. She moves tentatively, like anyone would without a clue what is in front of them, and she's trying to imagine where she is based on memory, but that only works for so long.

He tells her to stand still but keep her eyes covered. That's when she hears the familiar squeaking of the door to their backyard. Her interest piques, but she follows his strict orders and keeps her hands clamped over her face. When he's back at her side, he drives her forward again, telling her to watch the step down to the gravel, then again when her surface changes to snow-covered grass.

There's a familiar scent in the air, something she just can't seem to pinpoint and then a familiar sound, a comforting snort of air and movement. She gasps ever so slightly, recognising it all of a sudden, then asks in a whispered squeak, "Can I open them?"

"Yes," he watches her face intently as she peels away her hands and as her thrilled eyes begin to sparkle.

Only a few feet from them is the most magnificent thing she's seen in a long while. A majestic mare with strong posture and confidence seeping from its powerful eyes. It's a gorgeous chestnut colour, an exquisite copper that reflects in the bright sunlight and contrasts vividly with the thin sheet of snow on the grass. Its mane is soft, she can tell just by looking at it, not matted or coarse.

Robin's watching her closely and he doubts himself when he notices that there are tears gathering in her eyes, but they aren't sad. They are gracious, not the ice cold droplets that would form after the kind of surprise Cora would toss in her lap. No, her face is warm, her cheeks a blossoming pink, cheery and radiant.

She tries to speak but the words lodge in her throat, caught on the tearful lump there. Robin reaches over and tucks her hair behind her ear. "I know it's not Rocinante, but-"

"She's perfect," her words break free finally, breathy and overwhelmed. "Robin…" she whispers, turning to look at him and completely devoid of words, her heart beating so fast she places her palm over her chest.

"You keep talking about maybe riding again," he explains, "I thought this might help."

She smiles, shaking her head admirably, amazed yet again at how easily can surprise her. 'May I?" she asks, looking back to the strong beauty only a few feet from her.

"Absolutely," he steps aside but he isn't getting anywhere without a tight hug, a proper show of thanks. She throws her arms around his neck and pulls herself in close, mumbling her an emotional thank you into his shoulder. "You're more than welcome, my love," he tells her back, as happy as can be when she draws away and creeps over carefully to the horse.

The creature lifts its head, noticing as Regina shyly approaches and it's interested, eager, almost challenging her to come even closer. Regina is holding her breath slightly, her chest full of anxious air and she reaches out slowly to the horse's long face. Her movements are slow, testing the the mood. It doesn't flinch and when Regina's palm presses flat against its soft hair, she sighs a thick, shuddered sigh and she can finally relax entirely. She tosses Robin a tearful smile and he returns one with a heart filled to the brim with love, before she focuses back on the animal again.

"Robin…" Henry hisses from just inside the house, craning his neck from the back door, "Now?" He asks as quietly as possible, looking left to right to make sure his mother can't hear, but Robin shakes his head and waves the boys over to stand next to him as Regina continues to admire the horse, entirely in her own world ahead of them.

They watch easily as Regina's wide smile warms their hearts, a toasty feeling warming up their chilly cheeks. "Do you need it now, papa?" Roland tugs on Robin's trouser leg, whispering as lightly as he can given his level of excitement.

Robin holds his finger up to his lips, shushing the questioning, He reaches down and ruffles Roland's hair, throws his arm over Henry's shoulder. "We ought to give her this moment, don't you think?" He asks happily and then smiles toward Regina. Henry reaches inside his pocket and carefully gives Robin the small box he had been entrusted with.

Robin had been full of nerves the evening before when he so graciously asked Henry's permission to ask Regina to share the rest of their lives together. Since the moment Regina first rolled her eyes at him in the Enchanted Forest, he knew that she was meant to be in his life.

Once upon a time, a Not-So-Evil Queen sassed her way into his dreams, audaciously infiltrated his daily thoughts and entrusted him so calmly with her heart all whilst unexpectedly seizing his own in the process. They've been to hell and back with each other - separations, unexpected comebacks, their own personal demons - so five more minutes with the ring he chose for her in its box rather than on her finger is hardly a challenge.

Five minutes. It's nothing during those seconds he is allowed to watch the love of his life rediscover a part of herself she thought she would never get back. Before, everything had always been about timing, but now it feels like all they have is time; Time to wait, time to take the scenic route home, time to ignore the last few dishes in the sink for a surprise and all the time in the world to love each other.


	10. A Cup O' Kindness

A Cup O' Kindess

When Robin quietly enters their bedroom, he finds Regina strewn flat across their made bed. She's made no attempt to strip herself from the fitted gown she had begrudgingly zipped onto her body earlier that day. She may have wanted to laze around the house in a pair of jeans and a shirt, but Robin was more than happy to admire her in the deep red - almost burgundy - lace that hugged her body. When she caught him unintentionally gawking at the strapless sweetheart neckline, an evening in the dress seemed much more appealing to her. She teased him relentlessly all night; a swivel of her hips here and there, breathing so that her upper body nudged against his own… it was the only thing from keeping him going completely insane.

She doesn't look up when the door clicks closed behind him, just pats the empty space atop the duvet next to her, still dotted in her expensive jewels and her hair perfectly pinned in place. Without a word, Robin circles around to the end of their bed and falls backward, meeting her at her side with a hearty bounce that guides that chuckle from within her lungs.

"Your mother is  _exhausting_ ," Robin sighs, happy to be home and out of Cora's line of fire. Robin and Cora have never seen eye-to-eye; any time they are in each other's company, a disagreement erupts.

Cora's New Year party this evening was truly a recipe for disaster. Granted, Robin is an expert at biting his tongue until Cora digs her claws into Regina for whatever reason and, of all the things it could have been about tonight, Cora decided to make a quip about the dress Regina didn't even want to be wearing. Robin swooped in quickly with compliments and a grounding squeeze to Regina's hand as they forced smiles, just like they always did. Her mother mostly avoided them for the rest of the party, leaving Robin and Regina with Henry and the other guests who were really only there out of obligation.

Regina sighs after a few relaxing minutes, agreeing with his sentiments, and she pushes herself up with her elbows, "Was Roland asleep?"

She stands and clicks her heels over to the vanity in the corner. "He stirred for a few minutes but he dozed off again quickly. He didn't quite make midnight," he tells her, watching her from his perched position on his elbows. "And he wanted to hear the story again."

Regina smiles to herself, thinking it's missed but the mirror lets him catch every movement of her face. "Our story?" She asks, finally peeling away the expensive jewellery that had been weighing her down all night from her wrists and dropping it onto the oak surface.

He nods, but quips, "I could have told him the story of our evening but I loathe the thought of giving him bad dreams." She snorts and rolls her eyes playfully. "Though he does love our story."

"It's his favourite." She takes out her earrings before turning to face him and leaning on the table slightly, leveraging herself comfortably to finally inch off the heeled shoes that have made her squirm and grit painfully through her teeth most of the night. When the burning soles of her feet meet the cooled laminate flooring of their bedroom, she exhales a soothed breath.

Robin agrees, "Of course it is. What eight year old doesn't love a sweet story about a beautiful woman, a scalding cup of coffee and his father's discomfort?"

She giggles softly, eyeing him up and smirking. "How many times do I have to apologise for that?"

He stands and begins to loosen the black tie around his neck, pulling it away and tossing it onto the chair in the corner. "How many times do I have to tell you to  _never_ apologise for it?" She stands up straight when he arrives in front of her; she's much shorter without the added elevation. "I would have taken a good scalding any day if it meant meeting you. I was completely smitten the second I saw how horrified you looked."

She giggles again and smiles brightly, humming pleasantly when his lips drop to meet her own in a short, sweet kiss. She wants to push up onto her tiptoes and give him more but the burn is just too much, so she settles for pulling away and suddenly she's lost, curious about something that has surprisingly never crept into her mind before.

"What is it?" He asks, nudging her nose like a feather with his own, earning a smile before she pivots in his hold back to face the mirror.

"Nothing," she brushes off. "It's silly."

"If it's on your mind, it's anything but silly,"

Smiling at his insistence, she asks,"Was there a moment?" She begins to unpin her hair to mask the nerves, but she asks, "We tell everyone that we fell in love in college, but when did you know for sure?" Her curls fall messily on either side of her head.

"Ah," he presses against her back again and running his hands softly down her sides and back up again until he reaches the zipper at the back of her dress. "It's funny you should ask on this particular night."

"Why's that?" She asks, exhaling heavily when his fingertips grip onto the zip and drags it down slowly, loosening the dress slightly, not quite enough to let gravity take it hostage, but enough for her to take a deep breath in and out without the fear of seams ripping; it was a gorgeous garment, but any tighter and she wouldn't have been breathing at all.

"Do you remember Emma Swan's New Year's party?"

She groans heavily, her head lolling forward, "Unfortunately"

He laughs heartily, and finishes unzipping the back of her dress. "We had been dating for three weeks, we shared the most wonderful kiss at the bells-"

"And then it all went downhill." She winces at the memory.

He chuckles and lets the dress slip from her body onto the floor, "Are you going to let me answer your question?"

"Sorry," she smirks, sighing freely when he dots kisses along her shoulder.

"You and I got a little too involved with tequila slammers and Killian's rummy surprise," he smirks into the crook of her neck when she grumbles again. "That, plus your eagerness to dance the night away resulted in your head in the toilet and me holding back your hair."

"I  _told_  you then and I'll tell you again, it was food poisoning," she lies, huffing a laugh through her nose. He's never believed that, not once, so this time she gives in and stipulates, "I wasn't  _that_  bad."

"You were off your face, my love." He peppers a few kisses at the base of her neck, travelling down her shoulder blades, continuing. "Legless. Absolutely minced…" His hands travel to the clasp of her bra and he unfastens it, letting the garment fall to join the dress. "Off with the fairies. Slosh-"

"Enough," she chuckles brightly at his teases, leaning back into him again and biting her lip when she reaches for his wrists and guides his warm palms to her stomach, gliding them higher until he is covering her breasts, shielding her from the chilled air.

"Once you felt better," he mumbles into her hair, "You leaned back into my chest and there was a split second when you turned your head and smiled up at me with the purest smile I'd ever seen. Don't ask me why, but in that moment I knew that I had fallen for you." She smiles at his reflection in the mirror, feeling the emotion building behind her eyes as he reminisced so beautifully about a night she would love to forget. "Then when I asked if you wanted me to get Emma, you wrapped my arms around you tightly and asked me to stay and that was me completely gone. I suddenly felt like I was stone cold sober and the only thing I could think was just how utterly screwed I was. My heart was yours for the taking and I have been thankful every day since that you considered me worthy enough to steal yours."

Regina pivots around again and presses high onto her tiptoes, ignoring the burn this time and wraps her arms high around his neck. She tells him, "You couldn't have stolen something that I so willingly gave to you." She presses her lips to his this time and starts to unbutton his crisp white shirt.

"Every year, I think we've hit our limit," he shakes his head. "I can't imagine being happier than I am right now, but you always seem to make each New Year fresh and exciting. You never fail to surprise me."

"That's good, right?" She asks, concentrating on the buttons of his shirt now. "Surprises?"

"I love a nice surprise," he assures her, shuffling his shoulders when she starts pushing his shirt away. She peels it from his arms and drops it next to his tie on the chair by the window and wraps a thin robe around herself while Robin pulls back the comforter on the bed for them to climb inside.

"Robin?" It's a whisper, a nervous one. She's been waiting for the right moment all week and when he she hears  _yes, my love?_  from behind her, she knows this is it. Looking at him, she can see him panic for a second before she smiles the worry away. Taking in a deep breath, she mumbles the secret along with her exhaled breath, "I'm pregnant."


	11. Last Hope

_My dearest, Grace. It is with my greatest joy (though with a slight hint of nervousness), that I expose myself as your Secret Valentine. I was thrilled to get you but I also panicked slightly. I hope this meets your expectations and that you enjoy the little story. All my love, Shay xo_

* * *

Regina's voice breaks when she drawls out his name, her head falling back into the pillows while offering herself to him with the lift of her hips. She's fisting the burgundy sheet in her hands on either side of her hips, spreading her legs wider for him as Robin buries his head between her thighs.

Watching as he devours her in tiniest sliver of sunlight peaking through the bedroom curtains, she begins massaging her breasts, teasing her nipples before releasing one to thread her fingers into his hair. She grasps onto him tightly - not enough to cause any discomfort but enough to keep him in place - and when she tugs him closer, he groans against her swollen sex, his mouth sending heavenly vibrations to her clit. She rolls her hips forward heedlessly, grinding against his mouth, against his tongue and lips.

He had no intention of rushing anything this morning. He woke her slowly, dropping sloppy kisses along her shoulder blade until she stirred, with an undeniable hunger. He kissed practically every inch of her skin as she ascended from slumber, even resorted to shushing her merrily when she questioned his open-mouthed worships. He hummed against her silky skin, nipped in the places she knew would make her heart race, admired her entirely until her stomach muscles were taught, her nipples firm and her clit aching.

Her body is on fire, her clit throbbing against his relentless tongue as her back arches off the bed, rewarding his ministrations with a whimpered gasp.

"Don't stop," she begs despite knowing how smug he gets when she does; she can't seem to stop the pleading. "Right there, mmm..." she whines, biting harshly on her bottom lip and tugging a little more harshly at his hair, urging her hips against him again.

Robin's eyes shift up to watch as she writhes for him, as she becomes more and more lost in the pleasure he's responsible for. She casts her free hand out to her right, gripping at air before flinging it high above her head, just shy of the hair that is splayed across the pillow.

She's dripping, coating his face as he savours her sex, and he cups her ass in his hands, propping her higher, changing the angle of his blissful assault and she moans deeply, appreciatively in response.

"Fuck, you're amazing," Robin groans against her, his tongue delving between her folds, flicking over her bundle of nerves. He revels in making her breathless this way, bringing her to the brink of her release but then easing away, teasing her even more. He pulls back, slows down and listens for her frustration exhale.

"Why do you alway stop?" She groans.

Robin wishes he can conceal his smirk but his lips curl up against the inside of her thigh. As presses a kiss there, she begs, "Robin, ple-"

Her sentence is cut short when he sucks down on her clit swiftly, her hips buck up firmly, accompanied by a series of incoherent babbles. She's close, so fucking close, she wouldn't be twitching this way if she wasn't. Her previously stifled moans lose their barrier and both of her hands thread through her own hair.

"Come for me," Robin murmurs against her before driving two fingers easily into her slick centre, kissing her clit delicately, her mewling refusing to cease.

Regina's lower body tenses and her thighs snap closer together, trapping him between them gently, and he shifts his eyes up to watch as she comes undone. Her eyes are closed, mouth open slightly and her back has curved into a stellar arch from the bed when she clenches around his fingers.

She turns her head quickly in the pillows and cries out a collection of guttural moans and whimpers while Robin switches between flicking and soft sucks on her clit as she rides out her orgasm. She begins to puff out short breaths as she comes down, a wide euphoric smile spreading over her face and she reaches down for his shoulders and pulls on him.

"I will never get tired of doing that," Robin praises, feeling himself rock hard as he makes his way up her body, kissing over her silky, flushed skin while she catches her breath beneath him.

She flashes a sated smile as she runs her hands up from his elbows to around his neck when he presses them on either side of her. "How long to we have?" he asks running his nose along the length of her hairline, down to her ear where he nips her lobe between his lips softly.

Glancing at the alarm clock, she half sighs at how little time she has before she needs to leave, but fuck it. Her legs wrap around his waist and she feels his hardness rub against her perfectly. "Long enough," she says, then smirks against his temple, "Depending on your skill, that is."

"Is that a challenge, Mrs. Locksley?" he grins against the skin on her neck, bringing his face directly above her own as he pushes inside her, finding himself sheathed in her heat. He almost chokes on his moan, on the feeling of being surrounded by her completely. "I wish we could stay here all day," he mutters along her jaw, drifting her hands across her thighs and palming her ass tenderly.

"I do love it in our bubble," Regina moans, grinning and leaning up to kiss him softly as they begin to move slowly together. He wastes no time, hiking her legs high against his sides, and he pushes deeper, deliciously deeper. "Oh, fuck…" she licks her lips to save them from dryness, breathing out, "Remind me to thank David for giving you the morning off."

Robin chuckles, kissing her, tugging on her bottom lips gently with his teeth, "Might we not talk about my charmingly handsome coworker right now?" He smirks, pulling her hips up to meet him in a swift thrust forever, so her sassy retort is lost and instead her mouth drops open in a silent cry, throwing her head back.

"Whatever you say, dear," Regina breathes heavily, catching his eye again and nudging him onto his back, rolling on top of him and pressing her hands down on to his chest. She flashes a signature grin, the one that always makes an appearance when she claims the upper hand, especially when she intends to utilise it to the fullest.

* * *

She walks down the stairs looking immaculate. No one would ever guess that she rushed to get ready after a glorious session of the hot, irresistible kisses, three orgasms (not including his own), and a carefully timed few minutes to simply enjoy comfortable silence in each other's arms.

Her long is swooping beautifully around her face, her make-up painted to absolute perfection, she's even opted for a lighter lipstick today, but it's the dress that has captured his attention entirely.

He's never seen the tight blue fabric before... and that's a crime in its own right.

It's hugging at every single curve he mouthed over this morning, but it's when she turns to check her make-up again in the mirror in the hallway that the light catches the end of a zipper that meets the daringly high slit in the front of her dress.

He stands from the couch immediately, abandoning the steaming mugs of coffee he'd prepared, and makes his way behind her, shucking off her black blazer gently. The sound that vibrates from his throat is one usually saved for when she is bare before him, but this time he spares it for entire garment and holy shit it's something else.

"And just where have you been hiding this?" He inquires, running his forefinger along the metal of the closed zip from the slit in her thigh, up and around her hip, across her back and all the way around the her stomach where he grips the zipper, the desire to expose her flesh, and no doubt incredibly inviting lingerie, is overwhelming.

"I picked it up last week," she smirks, pretending to ignore the way he's gawking at her lovingly. She knew he'd love it.

She fixes a small smudge in her lipstick before reaching for the jacket he's slung over his arm. He helps her put it back on, concealing his childish frown, "Who merits an outfit like this?" He chuckles when she turns back and cocks a cheeky eyebrow at him. "Other than me, of course."

She'd give anything to salvage their morning. Instead, he asks the question she has been dreading.

Keeping it from him wasn't her intention, but the more she sat on the information, the easier it became to just leave well enough alone. And truth be told, if he wasn't so inquisitive, she may have decided to keep this nugget of information to herself so he doesn't spend all day worrying, but she refuses to flat out lie to his face.

She pops her lips, glancing up at their reflection for the tiniest second. He notices how she inhales deeply before confessing, "I'm meeting with my mother."

She isn't surprised when he stiffens and frowns, but it doesn't hurt any less when he drops his hand away and steps back and into the living room without a second glance back.

Cora and Robin have a strenuous relationship at best. Cora thinks Regina is far too good for him, almost violently so, and she has never found difficulty in expressing it. Robin, though, he's special and managed to find a strength that Regina has forever struggled to muster and manages to fight through the insults and the put downs with dignity.

He's never thrilled about Cora's surprise lunches, not that he's ever invited. Regina acknowledges full well that she comes home slightly moody and down. She and Robin usually spend those nights wrapped up in each other trying to undo Cora's damage.

Robin's bordering on frustrated tears when he clears his throat before asking, "Were you planning on telling me?"

He comes off bitter, another thing she expected. "I'm telling you now," she shrugs shamefully. I by time this happens, his reaction becomes more sudden and they prepare themselves for the argument they have every single time. In an attempt to avoid it this time, she carefully says, "This doesn't have to be a big deal."

"Sure," he scoffs, slapping his hands to his thighs and standing up again. "Why do you insist on putting yourself through this?"

He all but laughs when she struggles for an answer to his question. "She called and asked to see me, what did you expect me to do?"

"Say no?" He offers the suggestion, rolling his eyes. "She's horrible to you."

"I know you don't see eye to eye, Robin, but-"

"Oh, that's one hell of an understatement and you know it."

All the reasons she wanted to keep this hidden are slowly beginning to collectively sit on her shoulders. "You always turn this into a fight. She only wants to catch up and she even apologised for what happened at our last meeting."

"That's what she said last time. And if I recall correctly, she apologised then for the time before," he huffs, stomping like a child to the front door and swinging his coat on. "I don't want to fight with you but you are willing putting yourself in a hellish situation again. Or don't you remember the hours I spent holding you as you clawed through inconsolable sobs?"

He might as well have struck her in the face with that one, her reaction looking as if he just had. He draws back from his frustration, shakes away the impulsive thoughts. "Look," he says softly, settling down from his stressed demeanour, "Every time your mother calls for a catch up, it ends up as an inquisition in which you are the target, and I know for a fact that I am going to come home to a heartbroken wife. She rips you to pieces and then…" he throws his arms up, discouraged and unsure of the best way to frame his thoughts without offending her, but it appears his gestures does that anyway.

She scoffs, her anger simmering and her eyes glistening. "And then what?" She asks sadly, "You have to put me back together?" He shakes his head, realising how what he said may have sounded, then she bites "Don't flatter yourself."

"That's not what I meant," he defends. They've stepped back from each other, the room brimming with tension, they could carve Cora Mills in the thickness of it if they wanted; a worthy mark of the instigator of most of their disagreements.

"Right," she scoffs, fastening her jacket, effectively rendering their fight to a pinpoint that can only be escaped by walking away.

"Right," he repeats bitterly. Impulse fights through his restraints and he swings the door open, "Well, tell Mummy Dearest I say hello and do me the decency of letting me know what kind of train wreck I'm coming home to tonight."

The slam of the door forces his regret to surface, it stops him in his tracks, and he considers walking back inside to apologise.

But that'd be pointless. He hates the reality of it, but he knows how her lunch is going to end. There will be tears, there will be pain... but Regina needs to see that through her own eyes instead of his.

He swallows the regret down, as dry and dissatisfying at it is, and walks to work.

* * *

He managed to justify leaving her in the morning, but by the time he walked into the station and waved a half-hearted greeting to David, he was close to ripping his hair out.

Cora Mills goes to lengths beyond simple comprehension to get her way. Unfortunately, Regina has forever been caught up in these ridiculous, unrealistic expectations... and marrying Robin wasn't anywhere in the realm of those expectations. Dating Regina was a constant climb uphill in the beginning; doubt infiltrating every decision they made, Cora incessantly putting them down.

It kills him that Regina can't seem to peel herself away from the hurt willingly, but the more he thinks about it, the more he realises that Regina holds onto this tiny sliver of hope, the sliver that Robin is partly responsible for. He's forever talking about second chances and new beginnings. It took a few hours of his shift to realise the hypocrisy of his words.

Regina wants to believe that one day her mother will welcome her with open arms, that she'll express a love that Regina longs for. She wants the new beginning that Robin convinced her exists, and this morning the things that spilled from his mouth in bouts of frustration left scars that he is adamant to kiss away the second he gets home.

That's why the guilt has been squirming in his stomach all day. He's been checking his phone constantly hoping to hear from her - maybe he's wrong and things will be different this time. At this point, he's not even sure if she went. She's made no attempt to contact him all day; no cute message at lunch, no checking how his day is going.

David let him leave early and Robin expressed enough thank you's to last a lifetime. He rushed home, happy to see Regina's car when he rounds the corner onto Mifflin Street. It's facing the other way, she's definitely been out of the house, and his stomach sinks.

When he enters their home, it's dead quiet. No lights are on, if it weren't for her car out front, he'd assume she wasn't here.

Much like every time before, he sadly climbs the stairs, preparing his heart for the turmoil, but it's no use. When he opens the bedroom door, his heart cracks instantly. She's turned away from the door, short breaths being sucked in through her nose, and the is comforter pulled up so high on her body, he can only make out her general shape topped with that long, flowing hair he loves so much.

Her shoes have been abandoned by the door, her blazer tossed next to the chest of drawers on his left. The guilt that swirled before sits heavily in his stomach - she came home upset and she didn't call him like she usually would. He ruined any chance of that this morning by being a complete tosser.

She's notices that he's in the room, and her breathing slows down and she curls away, embarrassed. Robin won't allow it. Not right now. Not today. He promised himself he would battle anything Cora used against her with endless love, so he follows suit and strips away from his uniform down to his undershirt and boxers, unties his shoes, takes them off and climbs into the bed behind her, scooting carefully until he is flush against her back and kisses lovingly into her hair.

She's tenses in his arms for a moment before she relaxes and sighs heavily. He can't see it, but she's pouting, frowning heavily with a trembled lip. "Aren't you going to say it?" She asks sadly, no attempt made to face him, they lie completely still.

"Say what, my love?"

Her sigh is dragging. She's giving him the chance to gloat about being right, but he wouldn't dream of it, so she whispers through the lump in her throat, "I told you so."

"I don't think that would do either of us any good right now." He squeezes her closer, another kiss to her head. "Talk to me, babe."

"There's nothing to talk about," she whimpers sadly, reaching down for the hand that he's splayed across her front and begins to fidget with his fingers nervously.

"Please don't lie to me," he scolds her lightly. After encounters with Cora he exhibits a thick skin, a more assertive demeanour to keep her from slipping into whatever oblivion her mother has planted in her head.

"You were right," she admits. "I let her rip me apart every single time and I come home in pieces. Putting me back together must be so exhausting."

"I have never once had to put you back together," he assures. "You're strong enough to do that alone. But sometimes you need a little help finding the pieces…" she smiles weakly against his palm, she brought it up to press a soft kiss to it. "Tell me what happened."

She sniffles and breathes out. "She told me I should leave you."

"You'd think after all this time she'd find a new party trick," he jokes, pressing his lips against a tiny patch of skin below her ear that always makes her curl into him.

"This time was different, she..." Regina pauses to calm down, to push away the pricking of tears in the backs of her eyes, "...she said I was being selfish. That I was trapping you in an unfair situation."

"How in the world did she come to that conclusion?" He asks, almost laughing.

Cora has proved time and time again that she can get exceptionally colourful in the ways she tries to ruin them, but twisting it around to make Regina worry for him is a whole new approach.

He can imagine the bitterness in her words and the equally bitter taste that any fake syllables of concern for him would have left in her mouth.

"I told her about my test results," she explains, exhaling a shuddering breath, ashamed and curling over to lie more face down and her sobs win, taking over like they had before Robin arrived home. "I shouldn't have done that," she stutters between cries she failing to push away.

Robin turns her around so she can lean into him, silently for now as his blood boils and he imagines a million ways to make Cora's life a living hell - not that he'd ever do such a thing, but thinking it is harmless.

They both decided last year, almost to the day, actually, that they wanted to start a family. It was an exciting time, they would make love and talk about little tidbits of information - names or the colours they could paint the nursery - and they'd laugh at whatever ridiculous hour of the evening it was and then they'd devour each other again.

After the first few months, they were left with negative pregnancy test after negative pregnancy test, but they were filled with hope and alternative explanations. But after eight months of numerous negative results, they decided it was time to see a doctor and well, they were relayed information that changed their dynamic completely.

Regina can never conceive. It just isn't possible. Coming to terms with it has been challenging for them both, though Robin holds such high praise for how Regina held herself up high. After the expected bouts of saddened days, they slowly began to get back into a rhythm, but almost any talks of children were tabled. Robin confided in David mostly, Mary Margaret learning through a tearful phone call from Regina, but since then they've rarely mentioned it.

It has been five months and Cora has latched onto the one thing that they can't control and used it against them like the leech she is.

Regina's face is pressed into his shirt, her hands fisting onto the fabric as her tears stops, her pained cries slowing into small hiccuped breaths. "She said I'm broken," she mumbles against him, gripping onto him for dear life as if he is going to rip away from her, never to be seen again. "And that I'm not being fair to you."

"Regina," he coaxed, leaning away from her, but taking her hands immediately to show that he's not leaving. "You are not broken. You are the farthest thing from broken."

"I can't give you a child-"

"Stop," he says sternly and she clamps her lips closed and latching her watery brown eyes onto his. He leans his forehead against hers, kissing the bridge of her nose.

"I'm sorry. She just..." she exhales a defeated breath. "She said you deserve better."

"First of all, when has Cora Mills ever given a toss about my feelings?" She giggles, thank God. He needed a sign that she'd be able to come back from this. "And secondly, there is nothing better for me. You are my better. We've hit a hiccup, but our entire relationship has been a series of overcome hiccups. We will get through this one."

"But you want a baby so badly."

"I do," he agrees. He won't deny that, it's a desire they both share. "Regina, I-"

"I'm sorry," she cuts him off with another unnecessary apology. He's talked her through this a million times. He's got it pretty much memorised, so she saves him the trouble. "I let her get to me. Just like you said she would. She always forces me back into my head and I start overthinking."

"There's nothing wrong with living in your head every now and then. But you can't stay in there forever. I'd miss you too much."

"I know. You always bring me out of my head."

There's a glimmer in her eye; a sparkle, a light, and suddenly he's inspired. It's something about where her mind is. She's standing at the door between daydream and reality and she's toying with the idea to step out with him again after being forced inside against her will.

He's been waiting for the perfect moment to ask her something, to suggest something that has frightened him.

"Do you remember the day I proposed?" He asks softly.

"Of course I do," she sighs, a happy sigh. She's thinking about the way he surprised her in his kitchen without a shred of warning.

She was completely devoid of make-up, her hair up in the messiest bun imaginable, and out of nowhere between sticking their popcorn in the microwave and it dinging when finished, she went from girlfriend to fiancé.

"I spent months trying to think of the best way to ask you," he admits, lifting her hands to his face and pressing soft kisses against her knuckles. "Then you stood in my kitchen and you started rattling off about how happy you were. You were so raw and honest… I was so in love with you, but in that moment I was drowning in you and I never wanted to breathe again."

She stares up at him and furrows her brow when he leaves the bed for a moment, heads into the closet and comes back with a single book that from the sounds of it were hidden carefully behind shoe boxes.

"What's that?" She asks, reaching for her glasses to read the blurred title.

"I've been trying to find the right moment," he explains coming around to her side of the bed. She's sitting up now, the comforter dropped around her waist, showing that royal blue dress that took his mind to outworldly places this morning. "I don't want you to think, uh… I don't know. I just don't want you to take this the wrong way."

She hadn't bothered to put her glasses on since he's turned the back of the books towards her. She smiles supportively, a silent whisper of a promise that she won't read into anything that's not there.

He turns the book around in his hands, explaining, "David gave it to me," as the title became as clear as day: Adoption For Dummies.

Regina snorts a loud laugh before it turns to full blown laughter - David would absolutely purchase something like this. She takes the book from his hands and flips the first page open. He knees over her body and melts back into the warm he left beside her, reading over her shoulder and she shimmies to settle between his limbs.

Mary Margaret's recognisable scripture has left two supportive words inside - a short and simple message, 'Have hope'.

"You'd really be okay with adopting?"

"I've been thinking about it for a while."

"So have I," she confesses. "I didn't think you'd want to. It's not exactly the same." She frowns while waiting for his reaction, worrying that he's only suggesting it to make her feel better.

"Regina, I don't care if our child grows in your womb or in your heart. All I care about is that he or she is healthy and that we are happy."

Her eyes close and the corners of her lips twitch upward. It's the face she makes when he surprises her, when he makes her feel so undoubtedly loved. It's the tiniest of smiles but it's anything but small. It's relief. It's comfort. It's a thank you. It's everything.

"My mother won't like this," Regina makes the half ass attempt at a joke, but he succumbs to it, bringing her back against his chest and smiling into the curve of her neck.

"Your mother won't like anything we do together."

The truth hurts. She wishes she didn't want her mother's approval so much. "She was so mean to me today," she sighs. "I don't know what I ever did to make her resent me so much."

"You followed your heart instead of your head," he tells her effortlessly, pride consuming the moment.

"Hmm," she hums and pretends to read the first page of the book. No matter how much Robin can praise her, she struggles to believe it, but there's a fluttering in her stomach she can't ignore.

He chuckles shyly, bowing his head. "I mean it, Regina. You are not broken. Fate has a different plan for us, that's all."

Regina slaps the pages closed and disposes of the book carefully on the bedside table - they can read up on it later. Suddenly she feels lighter, their honesty with each other clearing all doubts, but all this pent up emotion, all the negativity that has consumed the larger chunk of their day, it needs to be extinguished.

She smirks, standing high on her knees and letting the duvet drop around her, showing the entire dress that short-wires his brain.

"What are you doing?" He asks, craning his head up, not daring to peels his eyes away from her cried away makeup and coquettish smile while she fiddles with the zipper on the front of her dress, an inch or so higher than where he knows her belly button is hiding.

Cocking an eyebrow, she tilts her head and says, "I think it's only right that someone worthy of it enjoy this dress, don't you?"

* * *

_Happy Valentine's Day, Grace. I love you._


	12. Once Upon a Laugh

Once Upon a Laugh

"Do you wish to tell me why you have been batting between sulking and ripping my heart out all the way home?" He asks quietly after the door to the manor has clicked closed. Not his best choice of words, mind you, but it gets the point across.

Regina doesn't acknowledge it - refuses to, in fact. Instead, she sighs loudly, irritated, and clips her heels into the kitchen as he silently follows. She'd be lying if his sheepish, saddened grunt didn't affect her at all, but she can't shake this feeling. The tingling frustration, the... God, she hasn't a clue what she's feeling or why. All she can honestly decide is that she hates feeling this way.

She hates when the temperature of her blood rises (it's all too familiar), when her heart beats a little faster and her cheeks flare an angry pink. She felt like she was about to explode earlier this evening and it is all because of Robin, Emma and their stupid whispered conversations.

Every time Emma looked at him or he looked at Emma, it irked her, drove her mad. Oh, and when they started laughing, hushing themselves quickly and darting their eyes around to see if they'd drawn anyone's attention, it took every ounce of composure she had to keep the fire bubbling in her palm at bay.

Robin's smile makes Regina weak at the knees, especially when he's caught off guard. The way his dimples deepen every time he's proud of her, or Roland and Henry share a moment. And his laugh, the melody to her soul accompanied by the gentle bow of his head when he's complimented.

Those little details, those moments, they are Regina's; his laugh is for her to hear, to grin at, to find solace in.

And the saviour brought them all out while, as usual, the evil queen is left on the sidelines.

It's Emma. Of course there's nothing at all to worry about. She has her goofy heart eyes set on that ridiculously dressed, one handed, eye-liner wearing pirate. But even that knowledge can't seem to free Regina from the possessive bubble suffocating her, making her ridiculously delirious.

She didn't want to admit it before, the root of her emotion. It took Emma Swan all but four minutes laughing and joking around with her boyfriend for Regina to become a jealous mess.

It's ridiculous. She knows it's ridiculous. So why can't she shake it?

Busying herself with making coffee, she ignores (or tries her hardest to) when Robin presses lovingly up behind her at the counter. He's being tentative, not as forward as usual, clearly not wanting to poke the bear as Henry oh so annoyingly taught him.

"Sweetheart..." Robin's breath tickles the back of her neck, her hair pulled to the side sweetly with a brush of his fingertips.

But she shrugs him away, "Don't  _sweetheart_  me."

"What have I done?" Robin pulls back, giving her room to turn if she wishes. "I can't fix anything or even apologise if I haven't a darn clue what I have done to upset you."

Regina rotates, expertly, swiftly, balanced on the heel of her shoe as she turns. She won't look at him, but the point is very powerfully made with only one name on her lips. "Emma."

"Emma?"

"You two have been getting very close lately," she all but grits through her teeth.

Robin has been very helpful at the Sheriff's station lately and while Regina has done nothing but encourage his new venture, this growing relationship between her soulmate and friend is doing some serious damage on Regina's self-esteem.

"You cannot seriously be upset that I shared a short conversation with Emma this evening."

His head tilts, his mouth slightly open, expecting her to deny everything, but she doesn't. She makes no attempt, so he assures, "Not only is Emma devoted to Hook-" Regina rolls her eyes and this is not the way he should start this. He notices the disdain, and quickly amends, adding, "I am intensely devoted to you. The thought alone that Emma and I could merit any form of jealousy is absurd."

"I'm not jealous," Regina scoffs, abandoning the the freshly made coffee and reaching for a wine glass from the cupboard, navigating the kitchen swiftly to pour a hearty serving of red wine. Coffee isn't going to get her through this conversation.

"No, of course not," Robin sasses, "You are just shrugging me off and refusing to make eye contact because you are so pleasantly thrilled with me right now."

It's an odd combination. Two spitfires, especially ones who share such a soulful connection. Regina honestly isn't sure who would come out victorious in a sass off.

"What do I have to do?" He's truly frustrated now. His voice is straining and his eyes are squinting the way they do when he is between a rock and a hard place, but they turn dark and sultry in a split second; seems he's had an epiphany. His entire body language transforms, beckoning her closer, daring her to challenge him, "Do I have to show you just how devoted I am to you?"

Her mouth dries as she clues into his motives, the mere tone of his voice alone giving it away. At first, Regina loses her thoughts in the lustful gaze, but she recovers quickly. "It'd be a good start," she bites.

She's not sure what was coming, a kiss, a hug, but she slips away, leaving the kitchen, wine left abandoned on the countertop. Robin mutters an irritated  _Seriously?_

She hasn't a clue where she's walking. She could head upstairs or back outside, but before she can decide, he's coming up behind her. Usually she hates being looped around the waist, but she welcomes his hands around her middle, stopping her gently, tugging her back towards him in the hallway.

"Lack of communication has never been our strongest suit, love, so please talk to me," Robin mumbles into her hair before peppering a soft kiss into the same spot. He turns her in his grasp, his eyes becoming lost in her own, blue melting into a swirl of chocolatey browns. "I only have eyes for you. My heart is completely in your care."

"I know."

And she does know, she knows it completely. But after everything with Marian and then Zelena, her mind will always slip into the worst possible scenario. Perhaps this jealousy she feels isn't unmerited, maybe it's not jealousy at all.

Things are finally settling down. There's no immediate threat ready to toss another obstacle their way and instead of revelling in the peace they've been granted, she's creating her own obstacles. She's just so terrified of losing him.

"Please talk me through this," he begs, booping her nose affectionately with his.

She struggles with the words, prying them from deep within her belly. "Sometimes I… I worry that you're going to find someone else," she admits, lowering her eyes in fear that he takes offense. "That you're going to realise how much I'm not worth it. You'll meet a hero, a good person. Like Emma. Someone who isn't ev-"

She's cut off by tender lips with a searing purpose. Not only to quiet down her rambling, but to boil away any of the doubt, any of those worries. It works at first. Her arms become tightly wound around his neck as they kiss heatedly, but he must be able to feel the exact moment her mind begins to wander again, because she is pulled tightly against him whilst his right hand rediscovers every curve of her scalp as he links his fingers through her fast-growing hair.

Passion is screaming at him to make love to her on the closest surface, but in one of life's rare instances, he lets his head take charge for a moment and he peels his lips away despite her chagrin and asks, "Do you have so little trust in me that you truly worry about my monogamy?"

She feels guilty when he asks his question. Her mind has been running round in circles trying to rationalise something ridiculous and she's gone and made him doubt her trust. That was not the intention.

"It's not that," she mumbles into his chest, pressing her cheek softly against his collarbone and wraps her arms to loop around his back. Breathing a deep sigh against him, she confesses, "Emma made you laugh. When I heard you, I felt lost and… threatened, I guess."

"My laughter made you feel lost?"

"No, no, not like that at all," she shakes her head and stands straight to look him in the eye. She's not explaining this very well. "It was the  _way_  you laughed. You laughed  _my_  laugh."

He's confused and she doesn't blame him. With every attempt to clarify she digs herself deeper and deeper into a strewn stream of word vomit, nothing she says making a lick of sense. He chuckles lightly as he watches her flustered, tilting his head while cupping her cheek, tracing over the plumpness of it with his thumb.

He grounds her, so she tries to explain one more time. "The night I brought the Robin Hood book from the library, you laughed so freely at the mistakes and the exaggerations. Your laugh made _me_ laugh. I had never heard it before that first night with the book but tonight... when you laughed with Emma tonight, it was that laugh."

His face matches the level or her soppiness and she hates herself, gifting herself with an eye roll that Robin quickly hushes away. His hands grip on her upper arms gently, "If it is at all any reassurance, what we were laughing about pertained to you, Milady."

"Confessing that you were laughing about me is maybe not the best approach here, dear," Regina jokes, nothing more than playful banter, but there's an underlying layer of curiosity hanging by a thread.

"Not about you, my love. More about a silly idea I had." He drops a kiss to her forehead. "We were discussing potential ideas for a quiet weekend away. For us. I wanted to do something special for you." Regina's heart swells immediately, her eyes brightening at the sweetness of his efforts and he shyly admits, "I had suggested a few nights camping, just the two of us..."

The dreaded groan slips from her throat and is out in the open before she can even consider putting a stop to it and he chuckles because Emma had predicted her reaction perfectly. "I laughed with Emma because she told me to imagine you after two days of outdoor living."

Huffing a single laugh out of her nose, she shakes her head at the thought. After two days in the forest, she'd be a force to be reckoned with, that's for sure. Regina lowers her chin, uttering, "Is that so? And what was Emma's suggestion for our weekend getaway?"

"A weekend in Paris," Robin tells her, then shrugs, "whatever that means."

A hearty giggle bubbles from deep within her belly. She makes a mental note to thank Emma for the suggestion, but then finds herself blissfully lost in remembering just how clueless Robin is to this land without magic. It's exciting, the idea to be able to teach him new things, but also adorable in the sense that he's so utterly lost half of the time.

"Forget camping," she breathes, arms lifting up around his neck, pulling in as close as physics will allow. Their lips meet upon her initiation, softly but meaningful. "Forget Paris. I have everything I need right here."

And for the first time, in a long time, she means that. She hasn't a desire to make a young fair skinned girl suffer anymore, no plans to curse a land or instil fear throughout a population. Those who were once her enemies are now her family and friends. She is rather content in her own little world, living an unconventional version of a happily ever after with her little prince, her even littler knight, and a thief who swooped in and stole her heart when she least expected it - not that he could have stolen something so willingly given, but he managed to surprise her nonetheless.


	13. Here and Now

**I wrote this as part of a project, but I was asked relentlessly to post it. Here is my take on the town line scene (tears for days) with an added goodbye between Roland and Regina. As heartbreaking as this scene is, it still remains one of my favourite Outlaw Queen scenes to date. A huge thank you to Grace, my ultimate bae. And of course, Zoe, Miles and Eva who all had a good read through of this during the project. Love you all.**

* * *

Regina mustered up every ounce of melancholic strength as she walked towards Robin, the Merry Men at his side. His family behind him, mere steps away from the barrier that guaranteed Marian's survival. The layer of magic taunted her viciously as her heels clicked against the concrete, sending surges of anguish through her body, preparing her for inevitable heartache.

Robin's face was dripping with sorrow, accented by the stressed creases on his skin, as she reminded him of the diner not far from where they were standing, double checked that he had the map she prepared for him and the money for them to get by. Assuring that they had all they needed for a life she would never be a part of.

He attempted to interrupt her once, twice, three times, but each time she persisted. She wasn't ready for the final goodbye. She doesn't want to say it. She needed him to leave without the pang of agony that would be left after this particular farewell, this  _permanent_  farewell.

Roland cowered behind Robin's legs shyly, still clutching onto Marian's hand and Regina cleared her throat before she descended to his level. Their eyes locked instantly and he threw himself into her arms at the first inkling of a welcome, clinging to her tightly.

She breathed into his hair and attempted to memorise everything about him; his mopped brown curls, the dimples that could bring the worst of villains to their knees - much like they had done in her case. She inhaled deeply, hoping to remember his childlike sweetness, his unbridled kindness and understanding and most of all his appreciation of the little things.

She fought back tears when he asked if she was coming with them, battled with her emotions even more as she told him she could not.

"Why?" He asked so innocently, meeting her misting eyes with blissful misunderstanding.

She coughed away the lump in her throat. "I have to stay in Storybrooke to take care of Henry." Roland's face dropped, and she added, "But I do have a special job for you."

"You do?"

She dared to turn her head to Robin, just for a second before she focused her attention back to Roland. "I don't want to be worrying about your papa while we're apart. I need to know that someone is taking good care of your mom and dad for me. Can you do that for me? It'll be a little operation for us, like I have with Henry."

Roland nodded his head excitedly, grinning widely at his parents who were watching the heartbreaking goodbye unfold, then he pondered, "Operation…"

It hit her suddenly, the perfect name for their operation, as clear as day while Roland curled his lips together in thought. "How about Operation Dimples?" She asked quietly, lightly laughing to herself as she pressed her forefinger against the accented dimple on his cheek.

He nodded and embraced her again. He promised to do as she asked and Regina whispered into their embrace, "I'm going to miss you so much, my little knight…"

Then Marian shuddered behind them so violently she lost her balance, barely catching herself. Ingrid's magic ravaged her body the way it had before and she's only inches from solace. Regina's words tasted bitter as she stood up and told Robin that Marian needed to cross the line. Now.

Robin looked between Marian and Regina. His wife and his soulmate. His honour and his heart. He knew Regina was right. Helping Marian stand, he told her and Roland to cross, promised to be right behind them but that he needed a moment.

Marian put up zero fight, nodded and took a long moment to stare at Regina.  _Thank you_  left her iced lips seconds before Robin urged her over the magical line where restored health was waiting patiently. Marian's body inflated with life, colour spread across her face, the streaks of death in her hair returned to their natural state and she inhaled the largest, most appreciative breath she could.

She and Roland rejoiced while Robin and Regina began to sink even further into their collective martyrdom, and even as Marian called out anxiously for Robin, he couldn't bear to take his eyes away from Regina's. They were all he wanted to focus on in that moment, but then she told him he needed to go. He looked over the line to Marian and back to Regina, flipped his head back and forth aimlessly and he wished he could convince himself that for once he shouldn't do the right thing. But he must.

He was playing back and forth with the idea of crossing when he caught the way she bowed her head sadly, the way he knew she does when she reluctantly rationalises an unfair situation as something she was deserving of. He couldn't let her think that, not on this day, not in this moment.

He's never been one to leave her in a bad place without a kiss to remind her of all she's worth. He weaved his fingers into her hair earnestly, surprising her slightly, like she surprised him every day he has known her, before he pulled her lips against his in a searing kiss constructed of unimpeachable devotion. No matter how these stars had unjustly aligned, he needed her to know that she was still his choice, she would always be his choice.

She understands. As much as it hurts, she does. Barely hours before, he spoke of setting an example for his son, and what kind of example would that be if he allowed Roland's mother to struggle alone in an unfamiliar world, regardless of where his heart lies?

This isn't just for Marian. It's for Roland. If there is one thing that these soulmates can agree on, it is that their children come first.

She sighed, closed her eyes as he pressed his forehead against her own. He was barely keeping it together when he struggled to find the right words and whispered, "I…"

"I know," she replied softly. There was no need for him to elaborate.

She  _knew_.

She knew how much he loved her. She knew that she was his choice. She knew how awful this situation was. She knew that his heart was breaking because hers was close to being utterly shattered.

He breathed a shuddered breath and brought his hands down from her hair grudgingly. He needed to go; Marian was waiting. Regina clasped onto his hand, refusing to let it go as he stepped backward over the magical barrier.

She held on until she couldn't anymore, not without crossing herself. And there was a second. A split second that she thought he might not go, that he would change his mind - a remnant of the hope she put far too much faith in. She couldn't look at his face. The wet eyes that couldn't contain the tears any longer, the icy blue that desperately seeked her out in a mask of empty road.

Instead she silently cursed the town line, the line she was directly responsible for and she began to drown in the irony. She spent so long and harboured so much energy into trapping everyone within the confinements of this line and now fate had officially repaid her by trapping her inside with her regret and, like a hastily wrapped slap in the face, life's congratulatory gift to Regina after finally feeling a sense of worth was to send her true love hurtling over the town line with a one-way ticket, ensuring that they were doomed to suffer the inconvenience of another obstacle, one that they wouldn't be able to come back from.

As she watched her love walk away in the arms of another, Regina reached into her pocket for the page decorated with the outcome she longed for. The mysterious promise of reward if she had made better choices. A single piece of paper and a collection of words that convinced her happiness is possible and earned Snow White a quarter.

 _Page 23_.

The cruel, artistically beautiful, illusion of hope that led her to that moment, to that pain. As it laughed in her face, she tore it to pieces, one rough tug after another, rendering its torment to oblivion.

There was nothing left for her here anymore, so as she walked back to her car, she dropped the ripped pieces to the ground carelessly... much like the way fate had just flung her soul back into the custody of an unhappy ending.


	14. Euphoria

**Prompt: Regina helping Robin with his tie before a date.**

* * *

It had been Henry's idea. Going on a date with Robin hadn't even crossed Regina's mind. Not that she wouldn't want to spend a special evening with him alone, but the expectation to have to run off to find another villain distracted her mind from it.

Surprisingly, they've been villain-free since their return from the underworld. Henry has transitioned back into his school routine, Roland is eagerly learning about the wonders of Storybrooke and Robin and Regina actually have time now to stop and breathe.

They can snuggle up on the couch after the boys go to bed. She has been able to make her family dinner for the first time ever and Robin has all the time in the world to nip his lips at tender parts of her body and allow heat to spill through every nerve ending in her body… but they never once considered a date.

Robin didn't even know what it was and, of course, Henry had to fill him in on every detail, "It's when two people who like each other go out to dinner or see a movie. They learn new things about each other, eat yummy food and then, uh… come home."

"Like you and Violet?" Robin asks, "courting?" and Henry nods. "Ah, alright."

"Henry's forgetting to tell you about the kissing that happens at the front door when you think your mother doesn't know," Regina teases relentlessly. Robin chuckles brightly and Henry groans loudly, a long drawn out  _moooom!_  that she hasn't heard in a long time. "Besides, Henry, I think Robin and I are past the dating stage. We all live under the same roof."

"I am quite interested in treating you to a special evening, milady." Robin twists his neck on the couch to press a sweet kiss to her pink lips.

She's not shocked that he wants to. He's endlessly trying to make her feel special and he succeeds with flare, but dating has never crossed her mind, and she's slightly… nervous?

"I mean…" her words are breathy, "where would we even go?"

Henry leans forward to whisper into Roland's ear and the younger boy immediately nods and pauses the video game he has been been trying to master. Henry stands from his mother's side on the couch, taking Roland's little hand in his. "Leave it to us."

They run off and up the stairs, whispering madly between the two of them and Regina can't help but shake her head laughing but it filters away into a sigh as she catches Robin's eyes gazing over her soft complexion.

"I love seeing you happy," he murmurs, leaning in for a kiss, one much more fervent than the before.

She smiles against his lips, "I love  _you_."

* * *

Regina spares a quick final glance in her bedroom mirror before she leaves. She feels good, confident, but rumbling deep within her belly is the smallest speck of doubt in her outfit choice. Maybe it was too much for what Henry has planned. It'd be just her luck that she'll head downstairs and find Robin wearing jeans and a nice shirt while she's there decked out in one of her nicest dresses.

Ah, screw it. She feels good and Robin would hardly be one to complain. Checking the curls in her hair, she makes sure it's all in place, humming when she's satisfied and she wipes the tiniest smudge of deep red lipstick away, something that only her eyes would have noticed.

Heading downstairs with a hand gripped tightly on the bannister to keep her balance, she catches a glimpse of dress shoes out the corner of her eye and then the leg of some black slacks.

He has dressed up too. Okay, so she's not overdressed - that bout of butterflies can flutter away now - but she's still slightly nervous. It's masked, however, by the excitement that she refuses to show too much of.

Robin's mumbling away to himself when she sees him completely. He's turned away but he's in a suit and her knees start to tingle, deep in her kneecaps then radiating down her shins.

She loves his authentic look, his neutral colours and casual chic, but she would be the world's biggest liar if she didn't admit that a man in a suit didn't make her swoon and weak at the knees.

She clears her throat from behind him, startling him a bit, but he turns quickly on the ball of his foot and his reaction is every she could have hoped for and more. He gulps away a large lump in his throat and his jaw slackens, mouth opening and dropping as his eyes wander and memorise every curve and line of her body.

She knew he'd like the dress. It's black - her colour, after all. It clings to every part of her body, hugging all the way down her sides, her hips and waist, her legs until it cuts off by the middle of her calf. The bodice sneaks up into a straight neckline but it immediately met by a laced mesh that gives the dress sleeves all the way to her wrist.

"Wow," he barely manages, coughing away the higher octave in his voice. "You look…"

When he can't find the words, she blushes brightly, the warmth rushing to her face and the pink settling in her cheeks. Robin smiles right back, urging her to do a little spin for him. Of course, she obliges, but never without a little fun.

She swivels around on the ball of her black heeled shoe, listens to him sigh a deep groan when he sees the deep cut out of fabric exposing a large section of her back. For extra measure, she twists her hips back and forth a few times, a little show for him before she meets his icy blues again.

Regina takes her moment to admire how well he cleans up. The suit fits him like a glove and she means to ask him where he found the time to buy a suit, but instead she can't help but laugh at the mess of knotted, deep green coloured fabric falling from around his neck.

Reaching up for the tie, she raises an eyebrow his way, a silent request for an explanation. "Ah," he chuckles nervously. "Henry left me with rather detailed instructions outlining how to tie this darn thing... but I may have struggled."

"I can see that," she responds playfully. He spares another laugh with her, regardless of it being at his expense, but he sighs happily when her fingers begin to unmuddle the fabric.

"You look absolutely breathtaking," he tells her with a craned neck. He's stretched it up high so that Regina has all the room she needs to fix his failed attempt.

When she starts to loop the fabric around itself expertly, she whispers a genuine, "Thank you," before quipping a more sultry, "You clean up rather well yourself, thief."

When she's finished sorting the tie, she pats on his chest so he knows he can look at her again. With his eyes on her, she pushes the knot close to the top button of his shirt and mutters, "There."

"Thank you, my love," Robin smirks, admiring her handy work in the mirror to his left. "Now, I do believe our children have planned quite the adventure for us this evening. However, all I want to do with you right now," he steps toe-to-toe with her, tucks her hair behind her right ear, "isn't anything I can explain to the boys if we're late."

She hums in agreement, ghosting her painted lips around his. "It would be rude of us to be late."

He tries to capture her lips in a deep kiss, but she pulls back, her mouth washed into a smirk and a teasing bite to her bottom lip. "Later," she promises.

And much like she expects, he nods courteously, dropping a tender kiss to her cheek, and let's her loop her arm through is. They walk outside, greeted by the wide grins of their two favourite people in any and all realms, and together wander down the pathway to a night they're bound to remember forever.


	15. New World

**My first entry for OQ Prompt Week.**

**Number 21: (early OQ) Regina comes home and finds the television is dead because it has tons of arrows sticking out. "What on earth did the poor TV do to you?!"**

* * *

It's been years since Henry has burst into her office with a bright, bright smile on his face, especially plagued with uncontrollable laughter. He's hunched over as he steps towards her desk, clapping his hands in amusement.

She's as confused as she is thrilled to see him so happy, and she shakes her head with a wide smile as he struggles to make any words out passed his heaving laughter.

"Did you run here?" She asks, noticing how he's struggling for breath.

"You weren't answering your phone," he explains, coughing away his chuckle.

She reaches into her desk drawer and notices the five missed calls from him. She usually has it on loud, but with Robin and Roland in their house now, she wanted to reduce anything that might make them jump and a device ringing from her pocket would have done the opposite.

"Sorry, sweetheart," she sighs, switching the button on the side to loud.

He waves her apology away, clearing his throat before standing up straight with a glistening in his eyes and tells her, "You need to come home."

It's not what she's expecting. "Why?" She asks, one eyebrow raising as his laughter begins to bubble again. "Did something happen with Robin? Roland?"

Henry sighs at his mother, typical Regina expecting the worst, so he shakes his head, "They're fine," and then smirks, "Some of your furniture and appliances, not so much."

She stands immediately, remembering that she explicitly told Robin not to touch anything he didn't recognise until she returned from the office, "What did he do?"

Henry's cheeks burst with colour, grin on display, and reaches over the desk to reach for her hand. "You'll see," he chokes, covering his mouth to hide his widening grin.

She clasps around his stretched out hand and uses her magic to engulf them in a large cloud of powdery purple, transporting them to stand in the centre of the hallway of the manor.

The first thing she does is look around and dare she say, "Everything looks fine."

"You're home," Robin says surprised from the dining room, guilt ridden and using Roland as a shield between them almost as he holds his hands firmly on his little shoulders. Robin gulps, "I uh… wasn't expecting you so soon."

Henry's chuckling starts up again as Robin narrows betrayed eyes his way and Regina begins to curiously wander the house, eyeing up the three boys who keep still in the hallway.

The study is fine, a few books out of place but nothing she can't fix. The dining room looks unscathed from afar, but Robin bows his head shamefully, full of embarrassment as she makes her way into the den.

And there it is.

She stops dead in her tracks and her jaw drops. The large screen in front of the sofa has been mutilated by arrows, four of them to be exact.

The boys follow her inside, the younger ones stifling laughter as Regina turns her head to glare at Robin.

"Can you believe  _Robin Hood_  destroyed our TV, mom?" Henry says giddily, amused by it all.

"Apologies, milady…" he mutters softly, refusing eye contact.

"What on earth did the poor television do to you?" She asks, feeling light laughter of her own bubbling in her belly. Sure, she should be absolutely furious at him, but his sad puppy eyes and sheer embarrassment means she can't dare reprimand him.

"The pictures move, Regina," he starts to justify his actions. "And the boys were watching. I was concerned that it functioned much like a mirror and they were in harm's way."

Henry leans over and whispers, "We were watching cartoons."

She smirks brightly, shaking her head in disbelief at Robin, but with the flick of her hand the television is brought back to life, the damaging arrows appearing at his feet to pick up.

"Maybe next time,  _ask_  before destroying my home." She means it all fun, the four of them realising the hilarity and sharing a short laugh, then she directs to Henry, "Please keep him away from our toaster. Lord knows what he'd do to that."

"You'll have to teach me the wonders of your world, love," Robin grins hopefully.

"You can count on it," she replies breathily, reaching for the button in her blazer to finally free herself from her workday. "Why don't you help me with dinner and we'll take it from there?"

"Yeah?" His eyes lift to meet hers.

Nodding, she tosses her blazer to the couch and walks past him towards the kitchen, tossing over her shoulder, "But your bow stays in the den."


	16. Open Arms

**Day 2 of our smashing OQ Prompt Party. Number 139: Regina and Roland use magic mirrors as walkie talkies. A thousand thanks to Grace for the beta, mwah!**

* * *

She tucked a mirror amongst Little John's belongings before they left for the Enchanted Forest. She thought for the longest time that it had been lost in transit, but last week she noticed a familiar figure in her vault mirror. A confused Little John stuck his nose into the reflective glass and smiled brightly when he saw Regina working some literal magic. Surrounded by potion bottles and smoking concoctions, she edged towards the mirror with glistening eyes, a hand over her heart and a relieved smile.

They talked and talked and talked, got lost in the craziness of Storybrooke and the wonders of the forest. John asked about Henry, Regina enquired about Roland, even caught a glimpse of his mopped hair running behind John. She gasped, wanted to beg to see him, but she didn't want their first time seeing each other after to long to be cut short.

So they agreed to wait, decided on an evening to talk again and they did, and just as she expected, she and Roland have been talking for hours.

And it's late, later than she ever would have allowed Henry to be awake at this age, but little Roland is so eager to talk with her. Countless stories of his archery lessons, amongst other things. He's doing well; John even told him he was close to being on par with Robin, and she's beaming at his pride, her heart aching that Robin is missing everything.

Then there are his adventures with Little John and the other Merry Men falling from his lips faster than he can move them.

He's mid-story about Will when John comes in and reminds them  _again_  that it's late and that Roland should try to get some sleep before their lesson in the morning. He tries to take the mirror from Roland, but he insists  _five more minutes_  just like every other time that John has ventured into his tent for the last hour or so.

"It's okay, John," she promises, smiling gently at the gaze of Robin's best friend, his partner in crime. "Perhaps I can read him a bedtime story?"

"Really?" Roland claps his hands excitedly, scrambles to reach for the mirror back from John's hands.

He urges for Roland to give him another moment through amused chuckles. "I think he'd love that. Thank you, Regina." Regina nods through her large mirror at him, a silent  _you're welcome_. "Take care of yourself," he adds sweetly, giving Roland back his precious mirror.

"And you."

Roland lies back quickly with a thud against his makeshift bed, his face washed in the flickering candlelight from within his tent, and sighs softly, confessing, "I miss you."

Immediately, the pinching behind her eyes starts and she's blinking away tears, telling him, "I miss you too, sweetheart. We'll be together again soon, I promise."

"We will?"

"I'll make sure of it," she promises, her hand on her chest and a lump in her throat. She'd bring him back in a heartbeat if she knew it was undoubtedly safe in Storybrooke, but with Gideon and the Black Fairy running around, it isn't any place for him right now, but soon. Soon she'll make sure that he and all the men Robin held near and dear will be together and taken care of. "What would you like to read tonight?" She asks him, ready to conjure up whatever he desires.

"Henry said-" he mumbles nervously, but catches himself, darting his eyes away from his mirror.

"Henry said what?" She asks curiously, sitting down on the wooden trunk draped in the softness of a blanket.

"He said you used to sing to him."

"Oh," she chuckles, bowing her head and smiling.

She fell in love with the music in a world without magic; the instruments, the voices, the lyrics. She would spend ages in her den listening to records and singing them at the top of her lungs after stressful days at the office. Then when Henry came into her life, she found that to soothe him, singing worked a charm, and it continued for years before he became more interested tucking himself in at night.

"Would you like me to sing to you?"

He's clearly too shy to ask, avoiding eye contact and his cheeks warming and flushing with a rosey pink. He nods with a tight lipped smile and she clears her throat. "Get cosy," she tells him and he puts the mirror down next to his pillow and wraps up tightly in his blanket.

Journey was her favourite. Henry's favourite too. So she decides to pull an oldie out of the bag and starts humming the intro to  _Open Arms,_  singing the words softly as Roland's breathing steadies and deepens until it becomes a soft snore and she lets the song trail off.

"That was beautiful," John tells her from out of sight, then he picks up the mirror to reveal himself at the opening of the tent.

"Thank you," she sighs softly, standing from the trunk and crossing her arms, feeling the chill that comes with a midnight breeze and late night exhaustion. "He's really doing okay?"

"He is," he ensures. "Robin would be proud."

With a curt nod, she tells him, "It's time I head home. Tell him I love him?"

"He knows, but I will. Goodnight, Regina," John says politely. "Until next time."


	17. Bigger Than Love

**Prompt 124: D!OQ's first kiss.**

**I had a lot of fun with this one, and did I get fluffy? Of course I freaking did, I'm trash.**

* * *

She's standing at that fucking tavern door again. Her feet are planted in the spot she has familiarised herself with far, far too much, and, not that she should be surprised, her heart is aching. Every time she feels that debilitating pang in her chest, she's drawn to Robin and her magic guides her to him.

Henry was pursuing her, yet again. No matter how much she cloaks herself and tries to stay away, he always finds her with vengeance in his heart. Every time, she refuses to fight, she will absolutely never hurt him. She attempts to convince him to let her live, to give her a chance and every time he refuses, she poofs out of there with the heaviest of hearts.

That heavy heart needed to hear his voice, needed to be in his presence.

Through the frosted glass door, she can see him sitting at the table. Of course he's there. He's  _always_  there, always where she needs him to be, even though she doesn't want to need him right now. She doesn't want to give into the pinching behind her eyes, nipping at her tear ducts, begging them to betray her wishes to maintain her tough exterior.

His tattoo comes into view as he reaches high to have the bartender fill his drink and she turns away, pivoting round on her boot and leans back against the less that sturdy wood of the door. She can't believe she's here again - anger, frustration, exhaustion about to spill from every pore on her skin.

She coughs it away though, fights it and twists the lid tighter on her fizzing emotions. She pushes from the door and starts stepping away purposely away from this god forsaken tavern and it's stupid fucking door.

"History has shown that good things rarely come when you walk away from this tavern without so much as a hello, darling," he says confidently, smugly almost from behind her, the way that always causes her to grin.

Only this time, it causes her heart to beat faster and freezes her in place. It's typical that he sensed her, followed her to assess her mood and make those sassy remarks. His playful demeanour changes when she turns. He must see through the mask she hoped would hide her glistening eyes and sad complexion.

"What's wrong?" He asks immediately, pushing away from the door and coming toe to toe with her.

"It's nothing," she lies, avoiding eye contact. One glance into those sky blues and she'll topple over into a blubbering mess despite how much she loathes to admit it.

"Bullshit," he whispers. She lifts her head when his hand lifts her chin. One look into her eyes, into her soul, and he's read her like a book. "You boy found you again."

Mentioning Henry glistens her eyes immediately, and she coughs away the hurt, telling him, "He's most certainly not my boy. Not here." Robin remains silent as she battles her woes, as her thoughts desperately try to collect. "I don't want to be here anymore," she confesses, wiping away any remnants of wet pain from her face. She won't cry in front of him. "So much for my fresh start. I'm being hunted by my son. And today of all days..."

"Come with me," he instructs, taking her hand firmly, like it's the most natural thing in the world, and guiding her away from the tavern, into the woods, deeper and deeper amongst the trees until they reach a quiet spot brightly lit by the moonlight above them.

She has no idea why they're here, confused ever further when he fumbles around in his pocket for something and bears a closed fist in front of her face.

"I retrieved something for you," he says, and he opens the fist in front of her face and exposes the magic bean in his hand, one of very few left in the Enchanted Forest - their version of it anyway.

She gasps, unsure what to make of his offering, asking "Where did you get this?"

Her jaw drops as she reaches for the delicate bean in the palm of his hand. She's never treated something with so much care, never felt so afraid that something might melt away when she holds it in her fingertips, firmly gripped between her thumb and forefinger.

"It doesn't matter," he shrugs. His nonchalance makes her lips upturn into a sly smile. He's handed her something so rare to their realm, to  _any_  realm, and acting as if it's something as common as hand-picked apples from an apple tree.

With eyebrows raised, she looks him up and down, noting the extra dirt on his shoes, the green stains on his shirt and she realises, "You climbed that god awful beanstalk, didn't you?"

He rolls his eyes at the fuss she's making. "It was hardly a difficult task."

"Perhaps not, but the giants lurking there are a different story. It was a reckless move."

"I'm a thief and I'm the best," he smirks, quickly changing the subject with a much more serious demeanour. "I know you've been unhappy. It isn't difficult to see behind those eyes despite how much you try to shield me from it. You deserve to be somewhere grander than here to live out your fresh start. To start over in peace."

She's only just growing used to these kind acts, something her mayoral counterpart was showered in with her Robin Hood.

Coughing away the lumping emotion in her throat, she asks, "That's the reason you have for risking your life? Regardless of how pitiful of a life it is."

He scoffs at her defensive insult. She wishes she could scale it back, but her blood pumps faster around him, puts her on edge. But this is always what happens with them - they're snarky with each other, a few hits here and there, then they'll soften.

"Not entirely, if I'm being honest," he confesses. He reaches for her hand, the one holding the bean and urges her to close her fist around the bean nestled in her palm, and bring both of his hands to protect her fist.

"I know it's your boy's birthday today. I can only imagine how much you're hurting," he says softly, full of nerves about how she might react.

She never once mentioned it to him. He must've discovered the significance to this day in his own in his outlaw-ish ways and the talk around the forest. If it were anyone else, she'd burn them to a crisp. But not Robin. Not today anyway. After the day she's had, their softer encounter is something she craves. Instead she thanks him and opens her hand again, staring at her ticket out of this realm.

"Let's go," he insists, stepping back a bit and showing the large void in the dirt, no trees, no logs, the perfect place to activate the bean.

"Right now?!" She asks, looking straight into his determined eyes, honing in to his constant desire for a new adventure.

He nods. "Unless there's anything else keeping you here?"

And there isn't. She can't live another day trying to outrun a boy who will never love her. "No, there's nothing here for me."

He gestures to the ground then, as if to say  _get on with it_ and Regina tosses the bean to the ground.

The dirt becomes a swirl of mystical greens, a swirling vortex of magic and the prospect of a fresher fresh start. The wind picks up around them, causing Robin to shout when he asks, "so where are we going?"

 _Shit,_ she thinks. She didn't think that far ahead and she hasn't a clue. There are endless options but she can't pick one. This whole  _first place that pops into your head_  thing isn't exactly panning out.

Robin cups her cheek and turns her head to look at him. "Don't overthink it. Where does your heart want to go?" She blinks a few times, reaching up for his wrist and squeezes it as his thumb brushes across her cheek. "I trust you," he says softly - she barely hears it but manages to make it out.

So with her the fluttering in her chest, she closes her eyes and tries to follow her heart, but there's something stopping her. That blasted wall that she's built up out of fear is keeping everything locked inside without so much as a crack to giveaway what lurks within.

"We don't have much time," he yells over the whistling wind. And he's right, the portal is beginning to collapse on itself. He's gone to far too much trouble to have this be the outcome.

But still he's so calm and she hates him for it. He's moved in closer so they don't have to shout as much, their noses inches from each other as they battle to stay firmly planted in the dirt, hands grasping at the other.

She can't think. Can't seem to construct a plan within the chaos around them.

Robin grounds her, his hand still holding her cheek, thumb still caressing and he says loudly, "Wherever you want. Clear your mind and jump."

The way he's looking at her makes her heart pound against her ribcage, turns her knees to jelly, just like he always seems to do to her with those eyes. And she takes his advice.

In an attempt to clear her heart and mind, she swallows her jitters down like the thistly ball that they are and closes the small gap between their lips. It's uncharacteristically soft for her, a delicate pressing of their lips merely to clear her mind, but he's more than happy to participate. His small moan vibrates against her lips, he presses harder against her, hungry for what she has offered. It's something she's had to fight the urge to do for a long time, and when she pulls away from him with a smile brighter that the portal at their feet she's absorbed entirely by his shy grin, ready to kiss him again and again until she tires of him, even though she knows that would never happen.

And as if by magic, her mind is wiped of all worrisome thoughts, all apprehensive feelings and instincts, and suddenly it's as clear as day.

"Now I know."

She takes his hand and squeezes it, waiting a beat to give him a final chance to bow out, though at this point she'd most likely drag his ass along with her. He nods, smiles even, and they leap together into the wisps of green, the swirls of magic until they are swallowed whole, catapulted through time and space, being shot out the other side like bullets in a gun and landing less than gracefully on a forest floor with large thuds and painful groans.


	18. Comforting Sounds

**My take on prompt 85: Regina tells Robin that she's infertile. It's not exactly that, it's more the aftermath, them dealing with it together and separately.**

* * *

Self-hatred is a detrimental fate that Regina Mills knows all too well.

The nastiest person in the world, even an inflictor of merciless pain and betrayal is no match to the nagging voice inside her head. It comments on every little mistake she makes, even has an opinion every time she looks in the mirror.

And whilst it's a beautifully bright day in New York City, Regina can't seem to find that same brightness within herself. There is no sun rising over her life like the Manhattan skyline experiences every morning, no golden light or warmth painting her curves like the skyscrapers. The day is in full swing for most people. From high above the city streets, she can hear the honking of busy cars, distant sirens tending to the emergencies that the morning has to offer and, of course the soft, muffled chatter of the collective people on the sidewalk.

Regular people going about their lives. So why is she standing alone in her bathroom? Staring at herself in the reflective glass of her mirror, nitpicking at every little thing that could be different, that could be better. It's another one of those days when she wishes she could be anyone but herself.

It's all her mother's fault, as per usual. Cora Mills opens her mouth and the insults slip out like a blade on ice. Regina's "deplorable" life choices ridiculed time and time again. Not even  _just_  her choices, apparently the things that she can't control as well. Her mother likes to focus on them, likes to make them an issue that requires an opinion, her opinion specifically; if it's not regarding her physical appearance, it's the fact that she's single. If it's not about her work ethic, it's about the career path she chose.

She should not be doing this - this is exactly what her mother wants. She should not be standing in a towel, still damp from her shower, scorning herself. This has nothing to do with her personality or how she perceives herself as a person; this hatred is rooted from deep within her organs, in a womb that has been working against her every step of the way of a journey she is so desperate to take.

* * *

 

" _Please," she whispered desperately to herself, a silent prayer to a higher being that she wasn't sure existed, but she was pleading to anyone or anything that would listen. Their bedroom was dimly lit and she was sitting perched at the end of the bed, waiting impatiently for the abhorrent ringing of her cell phone's timer. Those minutes felt like hours. The anxiety in her gut was driving her mad, so she drew her pyjama clad legs up to her chest and dropped her forehead to her knees, concentrating on her breathing._

_In and out, inflating and deflating her chest, she tried to focus on other things… then her phone vibrated and started its melodic reminder. She sighed heavily on her way into the brighter light of the bathroom and picks up the stick on the counter only to be destroyed, yet again, by a single pink line._

* * *

Conception is out of the question, three doctors have attested to that. Every time the fact was muttered from their lips, a part of her heart broke and fizzled away.

Infertility feels like unadulterated hopelessness. Each fertility treatment, every needle, every effort squandered and destroyed by a negative test.

Regina was raised to be in control, actively encouraged to take life by the horns to get what she wants, even if there are obstacles in the way. But this particular obstacle has shaken everything and left the pieces to fall wherever they decide slump to the floor.

That's why she is standing in front of her mirror this way, it all begins to make sense. As she stares at her body, from the indented scar on her upper lip to the soft curves of her hips, she realises that infertility feels like you're broken. Her body is failing her, like it has forgotten how to work properly, like it wants to work against her at every turn.

And then there's Robin.

Sometimes annoying optimistic, full of hope that she can hardly fathom. He's her rock in most cases, but he must feel so utterly disappointed every time she fails them. Again and again.

There's a soft knock at the bathroom door. "Are you alright?" His question is soft and knowing. He's the furthest thing from an idiot. He knows that her deep-rooted self-loathing happens in front of this mirror each morning. "I'm coming in," he tells her, jostling the door handle, realising it's locked.

That never stops him. She almost outright laughs through her gathering tears as he works his magic to open the door from the other side. She's asked him over and over to show her how he does it, but it's his favourite party trick and keeps that tidbit of information under lock and key.

"Oh, babe," he murmurs quietly upon seeing her wrapped up in her towel and that self-hatred she's been fighting all morning, leaving the door wide open and gathering her up in the warmth of his arms.

It's not been easy for them, accepting that this particular chapter is written in permanent ink for them. They display fake smiles with friends, false optimism with their parents, anything to avoid the looks of pity and awkward looks.

Most of the time, he lets her wallow a bit, probably unsure of what to say, but today seems to be a different choice on his part. They talked to doctors yesterday about adoption and he seemed really interested. Perhaps the new option on the horizon has given him the extra boost of hope to drag her out of her slump.

"You're perfect," he tells her sincerely as she is flush against his chest, his chin resting atop her head as her tears soak into his clothes.

"Almost perfect," she corrects sadly, sniffling and wiping away the remains of her soft sobs against his shirt, reasserting, " _almost_. I'm sorry I can't give you what you want."

"You think I blame you?" He asks with his hands moving to her shoulders, a delicate squeeze to each of them before her face finds home in his hands, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as he stares deep into her brown eyes. "I don't. You are still perfect to me. Infertility does  _not_  equal imperfection. There are other ways for us to have a family, we've discussed them with the doctor."

"It's not the same," she sulks, letting her eyes close as she takes a deep breath.

"You're right, it's not the same," he agrees, but it's clear that he's not finished with his thought. "Our child will grow inside your heart instead of your womb. That's it. You are going to be a fantastic mother and love our child with every ounce of your soul and I can't wait to see it..."

There's that pinching at her eyes again, the waterworks gaining momentum. Then he kisses her nose gently and everything starts to flow. Tears slip from her ducts, to which she curls shyly into his hand and kisses his palm.

"Think of it of an adventure," he suggests, smiling sweetly with his forehead pressed against hers.

"I'd go on any adventure with you," she whispers against his skin, brushing her own lips very lightly against his.


	19. See Through Heart

**Prompt 111: Robin and Regina putting her heart back in after Zelena took it for her spell.**

**Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Her heart feels warm in his hands, the prominent  _lub-lub_  of her heartbeat pulsing against his hands as he studies it carefully.

Obviously, he'd never imagine he would hold an actual, beating heart in his hands, so he takes the time to appreciate the moment. He memorises the organ, the curves and dips in the pulsing muscle, the darkness swirling around the light that is to scared to shine bright.

Regina is watching him look over her heart and he can tell that she's nervous.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather do this alone?" He asks, holding her heart out to her carefully.

She shakes her head, wraps her hands delicately around his wrist, "I entrusted you to care for it for so long, it's only right that you return it properly."

"I hardly cared for it, it was lost on my watch and almost destroyed," he mumbles, ashamed and full of silent apology.

"True," she agrees softly, smiling warmly at him. "But you went above and beyond to get it back. And you succeeded."

Solidifying her thanks, she leans forward to capture his unexpecting lips in a soft, gentle kiss, one he doesn't want to end. Robin leans into it longingly, desperate to be close to her. But the task at hand is an important one. She pulls back, struggling to ignore the way he nibbles on her bottom lip in hopes that she could spare him another moment, and glances down to her heart in his hands.

"Are you ready?"

She nods eagerly and sinks each of her arms to her sides, baring her chest to him as he runs his free hand up her left arm until he can brace on her shoulder.

"Like this?" He asks, bringing her heart up between them and holding it steady despite the nerves trembling under his skin.

"Yes," she answers, her voice barely a whisper and she reaches up to hold onto his wrists and helps him push in her chest.

When her heart is back in place, her entire body flushes with an unfamiliar warmth. Her skin firing, her breath being sucked away momentarily as the love she's not used to tries to find a home within her body. She gasps, scrunches her eyes closed and latches onto Robin's shoulders while he asks if she's okay, if he did something wrong.

"No, no," she assures breathily with a relaxed smile, pure satisfaction taking a trip around her body. "I'm okay. I'm better than okay. Wow…"

She feels lighter, like she could float away like a feather at the slightest gust of wind. And she falls into him, her lips pulled to his like a magnet. This time it's heavier, a little more heated, her tongue running over his bottom lip that he eagerly shifts to help her deepen the lip lock. Her hands brush up his arms, over over shoulders, across his cheeks and hold him in place as she devours him with every drop of fervour suddenly flushed through her veins.

"Wow is right," he breathes out heavily between the three pecks she leaves on his lips. "You weren't kidding…"

"About what?" She asks, leaning her chest in closer to his, longing now to never be far from him ever again.

"That I needed to wait until you had your heart back," he says shyly, blushing only a little. "Dare I steal another kiss from you?"

She grins madly, biting her bottom lip, "I already told you. You can't steal something that I give to you." And she captures him again, kiss after kiss, touch after touch, until the very last second that they can justify being down in her vault.

They part reluctantly, back to their children, but not without the promise of a picnic by the fire tomorrow evening.


	20. Candlelight (Take Me Home Verse)

**Prompt 11: Regina mothering Roland (it'd be awesome if Robin witnessed at least a part of the scene).**

**A little looksee into the future of Take Me Home. Hope to continue with the sequel soon!**

* * *

Regina has found over the last couple of months that Roland's smile is one of her favourite things - up there with Henry's, of course. Those wide grins are neck-and-neck for first place and will no doubt cross the finish line together at the same millisecond.

When she comes home from the office, Henry barrels himself against her knees, a new daily tradition that will eventually destroy her kneecaps, but she can thank the high heavens that sooner or later he will grow and that part of her body will be spared. Only today, there's a boy missing.

Little Roland is nowhere in sight, opting out of welcoming her home it appears.

"Where's Roland?" She asks, raking her fingers through Henry's ruffled hair.

"He's not feeling well," he tells her, frowning because he's missing his playmate. "He's in your room."

She hates when the boys are sick. Wants to wrap them up into a blanket and steal the sickness from them to deal with it herself. So she hurries upstairs, straight into her bedroom where she finds Roland just where Henry said he'd be.

"I don't know what's wrong with him," Robin stresses, a palm wiping over his face. "He hasn't got a fever. No sign of a cough. Nothing. He just looks so…"

"Sad," Regina finishes quietly, noticing how that smile she loves isn't even in the same realm anymore.

She's seen this before with Henry countless times, so she asks, "May I?" And of course Robin tells her to go ahead, still shocked that she feels the need to ask, but she never wants to overstep.

Dropping her purse by the bedroom door, she pads over to the side of her bed and toes out of her shoes. She has Roland's attention, his large eyes looking up at her waiting for her to climb in beside him.

She sinks into the mattress next to him, slipping her bare feet into the warmth he's creating in the blanket and pulls him over to curl up in her lap, his head against her chest as he wraps his arms tightly around her middle.

"Hi baby," she mumbles into a kiss against his hair, and when she rests her chin on the top of his head, he melts against her with a deep sigh that flattens him against her even more.

"You miss your mom, huh?" She asks, knowing the answer immediately when he stiffens for a moment in her arms. Her eyes immediately meet Robin's who's still standing in the doorway, watches as his heart breaks the moment Roland decides to nod his head into her chest.

Henry was the same at this age. Hearing countless stories of his father and fizzing with confusion when trying to fathom why Daniel wasn't here. That's how the candle tradition started.

"Robin, can you go into the boys' room?" She asks across the room. "There's a candle in a shoebox under Henry's bed."

"On it," he nods, disappearing from view to rummage for what she needs.

Roland leans back, pushing on her collarbone with his tiny hands, eyes drowning in sorrow he really can't understand at this delicate age. His hair is tangled; she catches a few of the knots with her fingers when she runs her hands through the curls.

"Henry misses his dad sometimes," she tells him softly, bopping her fingertip on his nose, and she smiles softly when his nose scrunches under her touch.

Robin returns quickly with the candle and had the smarts to pick up a lighter from the spare room while he was at it, and much to her delight, Henry is by her side.

Regina takes the candle while Robin kisses Roland's forehead, mumbling  _I love you_  against Roland's skin. "I'll leave you to it," he tells Regina sweetly.

Like hell he will. "Nope," she insists, grabbing his hand. "We do this together as a family."

Henry recognises the candle right away, jumps up onto the bouncy mattress and scoots to his mother's side. Robin looks at the three of them, his lips tightening into a smile as he leaps over the three of them with huge impact into the mattress, bouncing the rest of their bodies and lifting cheery chuckles from the boys.

"Alright," Regina says to Roland. "Now we have to be very careful."

The last thing she needs is a third degree burn against his skin, so she waits until he nods to light the candle. She feels the heat of the small flame near her face and carefully hands the cylinder of wax to Roland, hovering her hands at the side until he has a steady hold.

"When we light the candle, we can talk to the people that we miss the most," Regina explains, hugging Henry in close to her side while Roland stays perched upright, facing her in her lap. "This way they know that we need them to listen."

Roland looks amazed, side eyeing Robin curiously and waiting for him to confirm. "Go ahead, my boy," Robin urges.

And everyone gives him his moment. He sighs deeper, slumping almost for a moment, until his words come spilling out. His little voice talks to Marian as if she's really there, runs off quickly about his new room, their new home together. He tells her that he misses her, that he loves her deeply.

Robin and Regina watch quietly as their boys talk eagerly to their lost parents, Robin squeezing her hand tightly.

"Now what?" Roland asks when he's finished and the wax has depleted some.

Henry blows a quick puff of breath out from his lips and extinguishes the flame. "Now we play," Henry pleads eagerly with his boyish wonder. "Is that okay?" He asks Regina.

"Of course." Regina takes the candle from Roland, careful to not drip any more wax all over her comforter. "Off you go, my loves."

The boys begin to climb off the bed, but Robin calls out. "Roland, what do you say?"

She wants to tell him that it's unnecessary, but as quickly as she thinks it, Roland is smooching a wet kiss onto her cheek and professing the sweetest of  _thank you_ s against her skin.

"You're welcome," she smiles happily, simply glad to have helped him.

They head off together, running to their room to pull every toy they own out onto the floor no doubt, but she doesn't care. Especially when Robin's arms wrap around her and pull her into his lap.

"Thank you," he whispers next to her ear, pecking a kiss just below her lobe. "I feel ridiculous for not realising what it was that was troubling him."

"That's why we have each other," she replies, resting warmly in his arms.

"That we do."


	21. We Built This City

**Prompt 4: DarkOQ go to New York (aka real World) for their honeymoon and then stops by Storybrooke to check on Regina. (with a few minor changes)** **and possibly prompt 50: smuttiest smut you've ever written in your life? Debatable I'm sure, but this is pretty smutty for me cause I try to avoid the sexy times at all cost.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

Her fingers thread through his short hair as his mouth - lips, tongue, you name it - dances up her body. His lips move to her chin, then her jaw before catching her in a soft and slow kiss. She smiles into it, bringing her hands down until they are fisting into his white t-shirt again and pulling it off. - she loves him in the clothes of this land, loves how they feel on her skin when she's snuggled up beside him, loves how easily they can be shed from his body.

Robin breaks away for a second to toss his shirt aside, not a care in the world as to where it lands. Standing high on his knees, his eyes fall to her body again and his palms glide up either leg slowly. Up and up until his fingertips barely reach the hem of her skirt, a tight little thing that her little mayor twin would fawn over, and he dares to tickle just underneath.

Regina purrs delightedly, sits up quickly, adjusting her body any way she needs to for him to peel her skirt away, undoing the buttons on her shirt and tossing it aside, leaving her only in lacy garments made famous in this world without magic.

Then he's staring. Staring at her body like he's never seen anything like it before, like he didn't devour her the day he shot an arrow into her vanity with the ring attached, like he wasn't present for the hours of lovemaking on their wedding night.

He does this every time. Counts his lucky stars and admires the curves of her waist and her sun-kissed skin. That's what he's doing. His fingers trace along her abdomen, through the crevice of her breasts, up to cup her cheek tenderly, but she turns her face away shyly with a firm bite to her bottom lip.

Every time it gets her. The love in his eyes staring upon her. She's never felt very deserving of such. She's used to living night to night, unimportant encounters with no meaning. Then came Robin, a love she never thought she would find. Even after being given hope and a second chance in Storybrooke. Even after a month of marriage, her heart isn't used to any of it.

"Hey," he gently turns her head back to face him and with a sense of sincerity she barely recognises. He kisses her lips fully, murmuring against them, "you're gorgeous and I love you."

 _Always the charmer_ , she thinks, and smiles against his kiss before reaching down between them for the buckle on his jeans. He steps off the bed to drop his pants, the metal of this buckle colliding loudly with the carpeting on the floor of their hotel.

Still clad in his boxers, despite how tight they are around his hardening erection, he kneels back onto the softness of Regina's mattress and slowly feels down the smoothness of her thighs, her calves, until he's able to hold onto her ankles to give her a gentle tug until she's just resting on the edge of the bed. She props up on her elbows and watches with dark, heavy lidded eyes as he lowers to his knees and brushes his fingertips across the insides of her thighs.

His fingers loop around the simple black lace and their eyes lock for a moment. Her teeth catch her bottom lip tightly, she nods, begging him to continue, arching slightly to make sliding the garment off easier for him.

She watches as her panties are tossed to some corner of the room haphazardly, and she stifles her laugh as he begins to crawl up her body, daring to kiss up her abdomen, past her bellybutton, to the ticklish skin by her breasts.

"Off please," he asks kindly, biting at the wire in her bra.

She considers teasing him for not being able to do it himself, but she'll let him off this once. She tucks her arms around her back, undoing the clasp so it's loose enough for him to pull down her arms. It joins her panties on the floor, tossed aside, as he breathes against her skin, hot breath grazing over her pebbled nipple before he devours it entirely.

Warmth spreads over her entire body, soft whimpered moans at his movements getting caught in her throat, some slipping through and blessing his ears.

He shifts and starts to move back down her front, scratching his teeth lightly over her sternum. She hisses, he hasn't hurt her, not in the slightest, but shit, that shouldn't feel as good as it did.

He's smirking against her skin, his lips dragging down and down and down and  _oh god._  It tumbles from her lips without warning, just as he halts and kisses at her hips, down the curve of her thigh.

Her heart is pounding so hard, rattling against her rib cage, so she clutches over her chest, tries to manage her breathing. But then he has to go ahead and dart his lips over the other side of her body, teasing at every inch from the dip in her waist to the inside of her thigh.

Her breathing hasn't a chance. Regina's skin is tingling from head to toe, and she's desperate for more.

His name falls from her lips, a drawn out, frustrated  _Robin_  as his small nips and bites on sensitive skin becomes all too much and entirely not enough. He decides he's teased her enough, chuckling a burst of hot breath before serving one long swipe of his tongue along her entire length, lingering and kissing over her clit, tugging softly with his lips.

Her chest tightens, she arches slightly. "F-Fuck!" and she reaches down to thread her fingers through his hair.

"Keep going," she begs breathlessly, starving to feel his tongue against her again, on her clit, skirting around her entrance. And he does just that. She throws her head back, whining his name, scratching at his scalp.

She's almost embarrassed at how close she is already, but it's his own fault. He shouldn't have wound her up so tightly, he shouldn't be so good at unravelling her entirely, he shouldn't - oh god, she's so fucking close.

She tells him, tries to stifle her yelped moans into the arm she throws against her face.

He's built her up so high and suddenly she's falling again, cushioned in the safety net of pleasure and Robin. As lightning courses through every vein in her body, he climbs up the mattress, kissing her neck as she inhales and exhales deeply.

And for whatever reason, she starts laughing. Covers her eyes, embarrassed almost, but he won't allow it. He moves her hand away and is smiling the sweetest smile, kisses her lips gently and she tastes herself on his tongue as he deepens their kiss with fervour.

Hazy and light headed, Regina needs more, she manages to flip them around so that she's straddling over his excruciatingly hard erection, begging to be freed of the confines they remain in. She distracts him slightly with hot, open mouthed kisses while she links her fingers with his and holds them on either side of his head, pushing them down firmly into the mattress.

Her slick centre meets the feeling of cotton as she grinds along his length, pulling a deep groan from the pits of his lungs. He begins to pry his hands away from her laced fingers, freeing them to reach down and push his boxers away.

Their tongues battle through moans, groans and the occasional breathy cry as Regina continues to grind against his now bare cock, her slickness coating him.

She's already feeling the coiling in her stomach, the beginnings of what can easily wind up to a beautiful explosion and suddenly she's done with the teasing. Regina's eyes are hungry when he meets them. He sits up straight with his legs outstretched and pulls her to straddle around his thighs, perching up only slightly higher above him.

Looking up and running his nose along the column of her throat. He dots a sweet kiss under her chin, "I need you."

She slams a kiss to his mouth, appeases his request him with hot kisses, and takes the lead like she usually always does.

Regina slips her hand between the slickness of their torsos, weaselling until she can grip him gently and he gasps lightly against the crook of her neck while she guides him until he slips home. He fills her beautifully, a snug stretch that urges her head back and forcing a groaned, " _God_ ," to slip from her throat.

She savours the blissful moment of stillness between them, then she needs him desperately, looping her arms around her own back to search for his hands, reaching for them hastily, bringing them around until she can push him back down to the mattress, their linked hands pinned down on either side of his head again when she meets him for another open mouthed kiss against his eager lips.

She grinds against him, moaning softly from the back of her throat, into his mouth, when her clit rubs against him over and over, that combined with how he fills her sends electricity buzzing to the tips of her toes, her fingertips, even her nose.

She doesn't fight him when he pries his fingers from where she was holding them, especially when he releases himself to tangle himself in her hair, bringing her bare chest flush against his. When their lips part, he immediately latches to her neck, kissing and nipping and sucking in all the spots that make her brain fuzzy and light.

Her name hitches in his throat when she pushes up against his chest, using his heavy breathing rib cage for leverage, finding a rhythm that has them both moaning, groaning, gasping and  _oh God,_ he feels amazing.

"Robin, I…" she tries to string together her now incoherent thoughts. "You… oh, f- _fuck._ " She feels his arms tighten around her back and he twists and fumbles until she's underneath him, waiting for him to keep moving inside her, to keep that pool of heat deep in her belly growing more dense with every thrust, every kiss.

She bring her legs high to cradle around his back, pulling on him to move until he does. He dives back inside her heat easily. "You feel incredible," he breathes hotly against the rim of her ear and it shoots straight to her core.

She cries out for him, claws around and up his back, nails biting as he brings her up and up and up and, "fuck, I'm close…  _Robin…_ " He switches up his angle, shifts down until his teeth are scraping along the column of her neck, soothing every nip and tug with a light lick of his tongue.

Driving her wild is an understatement. He knows what she needs, always. He knows just how to give her what she likes. The little nibbles on her skin, harsher scrapes here and there, the hands in her hair. He's doing everything right.  _So_  right.

It's no wonder that the coil of tension in her belly is ready to spring open and ricochet across every part of her body.

"Right there," she begs, locks her ankles around his back and scratches into his scalp. "Oh my…  _right_  there. Don't stop."

"I'm right behind you," he breathes hotly against her cheek, then latches onto her lips with tongue-filled worships, swallowing Regina's throaty moans, giving her his in returns. Then she's tightening around him, tightening and allowing him deeper than before. Her back arches under him and she has to rip her face away, cries out to the side, allowing Robin to kiss along her jaw as she comes undone beneath him.

He wasn't lying when he said he was right there too, he lifts his lips away and concentrates on his jerking movements. He pushes through the remnants of her orgasm to reach his own, choking on a moan, and exploding wildly with unmeasured thrusts until he stills completely, falling limp above her and abandoning his face into Regina's neck, pecking his lips along the salty skin there until they catch their breath.

Pulling from her, he grips the mess they've made of the comforter, straightens it out and helps her bare body slide underneath so that they're facing each other in the dim lamplight of their room mixed the bright lights of New York City out their windows.

"Good honeymoon?" He asks in hopes that his suggestion to travel back to this particular realm wasn't the worst of ideas. They've had fun. Yelled at tourists, munched on food she would never in a million years agree to try again, and their evenings have been lust filled and satisfying to say the least.

She nods sincerely, "Beats spending a week in a tent. Even with you." And he laughs out loud, shrugging his shoulders innocently even though he's knows quite well that particular suggestion wasn't going to bode over well. "We see Regina tomorrow."

She hates to admit that she's nervous about it. She she shouldn't be but even masked under her tough exterior, she knows that her other half lost so much. Waltzing in with her new found love for Robin of Locksley while Robin Hood is no longer might go either way.

"She's going to be happy that you heeded her advice," he assures. "You followed your heart and you haven't wasted a single minute."

"Don't flatter yourself, peasant," she bites playfully.

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it."


	22. The Magic of John Hughes

**Day 6. Prompt 93: Regina is sick, her men take care of her. Enjoy!**

* * *

It started as a tickle in her throat Saturday evening. Nothing but a little bit of coughing here and there, a desire for honey in her tea a little more than usual. But come Monday morning, her entire face is blocked, her chest burns, the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window is blinding, and the only thing providing her any comfort at all is being curled up against Robin chest, his hand against her fevered skin as he rubs gently under the soft silk of her red pyjama shirt.

"Can I get you anything, my love?" he whispers softly against her forehead.

She doesn't register it right away, pulls her heavy head away and starts to cough violently. The infection in her lungs is wreaking havoc on her rib cage, and Robin gives her space but keeps his arm upon her, a reminder that he's there.

She calms after a minute or so, the coughing subsiding, and she melts back into Robin's chest, but he's moving away and she doesn't want that, groans at the loss of contact.

"I'll be back in a moment," he kisses her forehead, frowning at the almost desperate whine croaking from her lips. But even in her discomfort she nods and mutters  _okay._

First he checks on the boys, they're awake and downstairs watching cartoons, still in their pyjamas, but he imagines it's going to be one of those days.

"How is she?" Henry asks, picking up the now empty cereal bowls from the coffee table to dispose of them in the kitchen sink.

As Robin follows, he replies, "Not too good, my boy. Are there any remedies she uses when she's feeling so poorly?"

He's rinsing the bowls when he snorts, "Yeah. Some tea, a dose of aspirin, and most importantly... John Hughes."

"John Hughes?" Robin asks, scrunching the creases in his forehead in wonder. "Is he her doctor?"

"You could say that," Henry smirks. "It's Mom's guilty pleasure," he confesses, "We always end up curled on the sofa watching his movies when she's unwell." Robin hasn't a the faintest idea what any of the words falling from Henry's lips mean, but he nods, interested. "Why don't you convince her to come downstairs and I'll work some magic. I'll make her some tea."

Robin nods again and gives Henry's shoulder a soft slap in appreciation, gently warning him to be as careful as possible with the hot water before walking back through the hallway and up the stairs.

She's curled herself into a small ball on the mattress and he doesn't think he's ever seen her so small. Not to say she looks weak in any way, just physically so, so small. He feels so horrible that he's utterly useless in this situation besides being able to hold her close, kiss away her discomfort for even a second.

"Babe?" He asks quietly, walking slowly closer to the bed. She hums in acknowledgement but doesn't budge. "Do you think you can come downstairs? Henry is making you a cup of tea."

She grunts, sniffs through blocked sinuses and twists around to face him. Her eyes look tired, her nose rubbed red from the constant rubbing of tissues and sneezing. "I don't want to get the boys sick," she croaks. Her voice sounds odd, different. Her cold has altered her tone and her breathing.

Reaching forward to caress through her hair, he squanders her concern. "I think if they were going to become quite this poorly, they'd be showing signs already. Come down stairs, it might make you feel better to move around a little." She remains unconvinced so he adds some icing, "And I'm sure Roland has plenty of hugs waiting for you.

She contemplates for a second, sinks deeper into the bed, but whether she admits it or not, she finds it hard to say no to him. Peeking through one open eye, a grin painted on her bare face, she nods with a content sigh. Cuddles with her children is always the best option in her mind.

She struggles to sit up but welcomes his help to stand, gripping onto his arms as she steadies herself.

"Pyjama day?" He asks, eyeing up her red satin pyjamas, one of many colours on her that makes him weak at the knees.

"Absolutely," she nods, linking her arm into his as they make their way downstairs, taking care on the steps down to the sitting room where she can see a hot steaming mug on the coffee table.

Henry and Roland are sitting on the couch waiting for her with a blanket in their hands.

"Get in," Roland says happily, patting on the couch cushion next to him.

As she sits, Robin joins her on her left, looping his arm up high and over her shoulders, pulling her in close. Roland snuggles into her other side, draping his arm over her stomach and getting comfortable under the softness of the blanket.

"Pretty In Pink or Sixteen Candles?" Henry asks, holding each DVD case in each hand, ready to pop in the movie she wants.

Sighing longingly, she sinks into Robin, feeling so lucky to be blessed with such a wonderful group of boys on a day like this.

"Both?" She smirks and Henry smiles widely.

"Deal."


	23. Call Me

**Day 7! Prompt 18: "The poor guy at table 4 has almost ordered the whole menu just so he can look at you and you didn't even give him a smile. How about when you slip him your number instead of ask what dessert he wants."**

**At least my take on it!**

* * *

Never have a pair of eyes captivated Robin Locksley more than those belonging to the woman in front of him.

They're brown, like a swirl of the finest chocolate he's ever had the pleasure of tasting, but as she manoeuvres around the room, in the right light, there's a sweet hint of ember in them, like sunshine reflected through whiskey. Though what has him bewitched entirely are the captivating stories just longing to be told as they resonate within her iris.

 _Regina_.

That's all he knows of her identity. The cursive display on her nametag the only giveaway. He'd know more if it weren't for the debilitating case of nerves that linger in his stomach, or the skittish tightness in his chest whenever he comes close to speaking words that aren't  _more water, please_ or his whiny voice ordering yet another thing off this blasted menu, but he'd order every god damn plate if it means he can catch another glimpse of her.

He's not usually like this, the farthest from it actually. Ever since his divorce and gaining full custody of his little boy, meeting women has been the last thing on his mind, but there's something so enchanting about Regina and he's desperate to mutter a simple hello to her, anything to start a conversation other than that of a waitress and a patron.

He almost has a couple of times, but the closer she gets to his table the faster his heart beats and the only thing he manages to do is ask for more water or an additional side.

He's surrounded by food. Enough food to feed his entire building, but the only thing he's hungry for is a simple conversation.

* * *

"Regina," Ruby scolds when she steps into the kitchen. "That poor man at table twenty three has been trying to get your attention for the last hour."

She's taken aback, flips her head around when she drop the used plates into the sink. "I'm sorry?"

"The hot British dude at table twenty three is practically pining for you. Everyone in the place can see it. Except you."

"Who?" Regina asks, heading to the walkway into the kitchen so she can peek through the small window. He's playing with the food on his plate, clearly nervous, bouncing his leg up and down and he looks around the room. "The guy who ordered our entire menu?"

"Yeah," Ruby scoffs lightly. "He's been trying to talk to you since he walked in. And he was here two days ago too."

"I didn't notice," Regina confesses, shaking her head before peeking back through for another look. He is gorgeous. Sandy hair, strong arms, a confident face, even if flushed by his schoolboy-ish nerves.

"Go talk to him."

"No," Regina says flatly. "I just ended things with Graham, I'm not looking for anything right now.'

"Babe, you were with Graham for five years. You need something new and fun," Ruby presses, tucking a stray piece of hair from Regina's face behind her ear. "What will it hurt? Especially when he's clearly so interested."

Regina sighs, but can't help but embrace that flattered butterflies in her stomach. She looks out the small window one last time, and grins, "Any ideas?"

* * *

He's surprised when the coffee cup is smacked down on his table unexpectedly. It's dark coffee, a strong brew that she could have never knew that he wanted. "I, uh…. I didn't order this."

Regina flashes him a smile for the first time, shrugging her shoulders with a pinch of cheek to it and says, "I know…" before walking away from his table and disappearing into the back again.

He's confused. Thrilled that he managed to see that smile but so, so lost. That's when he notices the digits scribbled on the napkin under his new coffee, and next to it a flirtatious  _call me_  written in the beautiful cursive lettering that matches her name tag.


	24. The Magic of John Hughes

**Day 6. Prompt 93: Regina is sick, her men take care of her. Enjoy!**

* * *

It started as a tickle in her throat Saturday evening. Nothing but a little bit of coughing here and there, a desire for honey in her tea a little more than usual. But come Monday morning, her entire face is blocked, her chest burns, the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window is blinding, and the only thing providing her any comfort at all is being curled up against Robin chest, his hand against her fevered skin as he rubs gently under the soft silk of her red pyjama shirt.

"Can I get you anything, my love?" he whispers softly against her forehead.

She doesn't register it right away, pulls her heavy head away and starts to cough violently. The infection in her lungs is wreaking havoc on her rib cage, and Robin gives her space but keeps his arm upon her, a reminder that he's there.

She calms after a minute or so, the coughing subsiding, and she melts back into Robin's chest, but he's moving away and she doesn't want that, groans at the loss of contact.

"I'll be back in a moment," he kisses her forehead, frowning at the almost desperate whine croaking from her lips. But even in her discomfort she nods and mutters  _okay._

First he checks on the boys, they're awake and downstairs watching cartoons, still in their pyjamas, but he imagines it's going to be one of those days.

"How is she?" Henry asks, picking up the now empty cereal bowls from the coffee table to dispose of them in the kitchen sink.

As Robin follows, he replies, "Not too good, my boy. Are there any remedies she uses when she's feeling so poorly?"

He's rinsing the bowls when he snorts, "Yeah. Some tea, a dose of aspirin, and most importantly... John Hughes."

"John Hughes?" Robin asks, scrunching the creases in his forehead in wonder. "Is he her doctor?"

"You could say that," Henry smirks. "It's Mom's guilty pleasure," he confesses, "We always end up curled on the sofa watching his movies when she's unwell." Robin hasn't a the faintest idea what any of the words falling from Henry's lips mean, but he nods, interested. "Why don't you convince her to come downstairs and I'll work some magic. I'll make her some tea."

Robin nods again and gives Henry's shoulder a soft slap in appreciation, gently warning him to be as careful as possible with the hot water before walking back through the hallway and up the stairs.

She's curled herself into a small ball on the mattress and he doesn't think he's ever seen her so small. Not to say she looks weak in any way, just physically so, so small. He feels so horrible that he's utterly useless in this situation besides being able to hold her close, kiss away her discomfort for even a second.

"Babe?" He asks quietly, walking slowly closer to the bed. She hums in acknowledgement but doesn't budge. "Do you think you can come downstairs? Henry is making you a cup of tea."

She grunts, sniffs through blocked sinuses and twists around to face him. Her eyes look tired, her nose rubbed red from the constant rubbing of tissues and sneezing. "I don't want to get the boys sick," she croaks. Her voice sounds odd, different. Her cold has altered her tone and her breathing.

Reaching forward to caress through her hair, he squanders her concern. "I think if they were going to become quite this poorly, they'd be showing signs already. Come down stairs, it might make you feel better to move around a little." She remains unconvinced so he adds some icing, "And I'm sure Roland has plenty of hugs waiting for you.

She contemplates for a second, sinks deeper into the bed, but whether she admits it or not, she finds it hard to say no to him. Peeking through one open eye, a grin painted on her bare face, she nods with a content sigh. Cuddles with her children is always the best option in her mind.

She struggles to sit up but welcomes his help to stand, gripping onto his arms as she steadies herself.

"Pyjama day?" He asks, eyeing up her red satin pyjamas, one of many colours on her that makes him weak at the knees.

"Absolutely," she nods, linking her arm into his as they make their way downstairs, taking care on the steps down to the sitting room where she can see a hot steaming mug on the coffee table.

Henry and Roland are sitting on the couch waiting for her with a blanket in their hands.

"Get in," Roland says happily, patting on the couch cushion next to him.

As she sits, Robin joins her on her left, looping his arm up high and over her shoulders, pulling her in close. Roland snuggles into her other side, draping his arm over her stomach and getting comfortable under the softness of the blanket.

"Pretty In Pink or Sixteen Candles?" Henry asks, holding each DVD case in each hand, ready to pop in the movie she wants.

Sighing longingly, she sinks into Robin, feeling so lucky to be blessed with such a wonderful group of boys on a day like this.

"Both?" She smirks and Henry smiles widely.

"Deal."


	25. I Will Always Choose You

**Day 2: Regina uses a disguise to check up on Robin and Roland, but when she gets the feeling that Robin is unhappy, she has to come clean.**

**No beta again, so apologies for any of the mistakes! Enjoy!**

* * *

The first time Robin noticed the mysterious blonde, he was in the public library with Roland. The young boy was smiling madly at the colourful pages of every book he could get his little hands on, and Robin loved every second of it.

He and Roland were sounding out words together and that's when he caught the oddly familiar woman watching them from a chair near the entryway to the children's books. Her face was decorated with a sad smile, but it was the pride in her eyes as Roland read an entire page all by himself that grappled his interest. He watched as her lungs inflated proudly, as she smiled brightly, but before he could introduce himself, she disappeared into the mass of readers.

The next time was in Central Park. He and Roland kept strolling by an area in the park where little sail boats made rippling patterns in a small body of water. Together, they'd watch families sail the boats around but never once had they thought about doing it themselves, but on this particular day, someone dropped a sailboat and remote by their side without them realising.

Roland was over the moon, bubbling with glee, and Robin can't explain how he knew, but he just  _knew_  this mysterious blonde was responsible. He'd caught a glimpse of her numerous times that day and when he turned around with the sailboat in hand, he noticed how she watched them slyly from amongst the trees off to their right. And much like at the library, before he could relay any sort of thank you, she had disappeared without a trace.

It's been a week since that day and he finds her for the third time. After a fierce argument with Marian, yet again, he escapes downstairs and gets comfortable in his usual seat. He usually has a drink or two, focusses on his breathing.

But today is different.

She's at the end of the bar. Perched on the barstool and nursing steaming mug of coffee, avoiding his eye contact whenever he gazes that way.

He's a sip into his second whiskey, rattling around his brain to find out why she seems so familiar to him; the way her elbows are resting on the bar, the way she subtly licks her bottom lip after each sip of hot coffee. The way she cranes her neck from left to right in a comforting stretch makes him feel like he knows her somehow. Heck, even the simple act of ordering a coffee in a bar in the middle of the day sparks something in his mind. He feels an attraction to her that he can't explain and it's stirring around a level of confusion that tightens in the front of his skull.

When Robin pinches the bridge of his nose, the bartender places a new drink in front of him, his preferred whiskey.

"I didn't order this, he says. The drink he  _had_ ordered is barely touched, the glass settled in the curve of his fingers.

"No," the barman laughs and points to the end of the bar, but the seat is now vacant.

She's gone.  _Again_. Disappeared without a trace.

"Oh. The woman there told me to pour it for you. And to give you this," he fiddled in his pocket and gives Robin a napkin with a scribbled message.

His eyes widen. He reads it multiple times. Over and over, memorising the cursive way the woman has written  _the drink I owe you_ on the scratchy material.

_Regina._

_It can't be_ , he thinks. And his head snaps up and searches around the bar, asking, "Where did she go?"

"I didn't see," the voice behind the bar tells him, "but she also asked me to give you this." The barman has something in his hand, a thick bundled up piece of porous paper and sellotape. "She said you'd understand."

When Robin unravels the storybook page, his heart flutters.

Page 23.

It has been hastily torn but delicately taped back together. It's her. It has to be.

"She covered your tab," he hears. "Go get her."

Robin doesn't need to be told twice. He walks promptly out the main entrance, chooses to go left without hesitation and follows the pull inside him. He thinks he's going to end up crossing the intersection before he spots something out of the corner of his eye.

His attention is captured by the woman standing in the middle of the alley way. The soft, dark hair he's missed brushing his fingers through, the brown eyes that he longs to see when he wakes, the body he's missed worshipping, the soul that makes his soul feel complete.

Regina is standing there sheepishly, a nervous smile painted on her tight lips as she shrugs her shoulders, unsure of what to do.

Her names slips softly from his lungs as his legs start the short spring towards her. Her arms open in anticipation, giving him the room he needs to scoop her against his front. She pulls herself even closer with the arms looped around his neck and then they just drown in each other.

He drops his face into curve in her neck, resting his nose against the soft material of her jacket.

"I missed you," she breathes against his neck.

"And I, you…"

He reluctantly pulls from the embrace, but he has to look at her again. He grips her shoulders gently, squeezing to make sure she's real. His palms glide upward to cradle her face and she clasps her fingers around his wrists.

"I knew it was you." He says softly, pressing his forehead lovingly against hers. Maybe not completely and not right away, but he knew.

"What gave me away?"

"Now that I think about it, almost everything," he chuckles, his eyes fluttering closed as he recalls, "but you came to a bar to drink coffee. I guess it reminded me that you don't daytime drink."

She smirks freely, pushing up on her tiptoes to kiss his again finally, mumbling, "Only you would remember that."

He revels in her kiss, in the warmth and softness of her lips before asking, "Why the disguise?"

"I…" she hesitates for a moment. "I had to see if you were happy. Preferably without throwing a wrench into your life. Henry suggested cloaking myself as another person. That way I could check on you without confusing you, just incase you had settled. But… after everything I saw today, you don't seem like you are." She dares not lose his eyes. "Happy, I mean..."

"I'm not," he sighs before explaining, "I tried to forget you. I really did try. But even then, every waking thought I had was consumed by you. And Marian… she… she's so different. She's not the woman I once knew. I can't pretend that she is anymore."

Her eyes are understanding, comfort seeping from the swirling colour of her iris, "What if I told you that there is a way to bring you home. All of you. Would you be interested?"

"As long as I'm with you, I will go anywhere," he assures. "I chose you and I will  _always_  choose you."


	26. Operation Pixie Dust

**Day 3 of OQ Fix It Week - Quest to get Robin Hood back.**

**Prompt: Henry is struggling with the loss of Robin more than people realise and he refuses to lose hope.**

**I'd like to give the biggest shout out to the wonderful Brittany who is officially one of my favourite people on this planet. Thank you for being such a wonderful beta tonight, I just loved chatting through this with you!**

* * *

Regina flinches every time the doorbell rings now. Nearly every person in town has stopped to mutter their condolences, to relay their own personal experiences with her soulmate. The manse is riddled with the flowers they bring, with food that she'll never eat. As nice as it is that everyone wants to make sure she's comfortable and not stooping back to her evil ways, it's becoming exhausting and downright annoying.

She hesitates as she opens the door, but luckily she can release that held in breath because she's greeted by the fresh face of Henry's  _not_  girlfriend, a face she doesn't mind seeing.

Regina smiles politely, "Hello, Violet."

It's a pleasant surprise until Regina remembers that a certain someone is supposed to be with her right now. Regina looks out the door, to either end of the porch, then worriedly asks, "Where's Henry?" Violet's face immediately drops, falling into a deep creased frown with drooped eyes. "Violet?"

"He asked me not to tell you," Violent whispers. "But I'm worried about him."

Regina's stomach drops, "He hasn't been with you this afternoon?"

Violet shakes her head, "That's just what he tells you when he goes to the forest."

 _The forest?_  She thinks. Why on earth would he go to the forest? Especially on a day like today, the sky's expanse is dark grey, droplets are falling slightly from above. And when Violet adds a saddened  _he really misses him,_  Regina's heart absolutely shatters.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she squeezes tenderly on Violet's shoulder, "Thank you for telling me."

"He was a special man," Violent barely whispers. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

It took Regina a while to realise just how much Robin was loved throughout the town, even the people who only knew him for a few weeks.

"I know you are, sweetheart," Regina hugs Violet in quickly, placing a chaste kiss against her hairline. "I'll go and check on Henry. He'll never know you told me, I promise."

"I don't care about that," Violet's head shakes as she pulls back from Regina's hold. "But please tell him that I'm here for him."

Regina tells her that she will, that she'll relay the message as soon as she gets to the bottom of Henry's adventuress to the forest, even though there is a gut feeling that tells her she already knows.

As Violet disappears from view, Regina engulfs herself in a tornado of purple smoke and finds herself standing in the middle of Robin's camp, what's left of it anyway.

Regina winces at how bare the camp looks. The Merry Men all decided it was best to go home to the Enchanted Forest, and they packed up as well as they could. All that's left is the odd campfire, tent and a few blankets strewn across the ground.

At first she can't see Henry, she turns around a few times hoping to catch a glimpse of him, but he's blocked by some trees. It's the frustrated grunts and muffled voice that give his location away.

She edges up slowly, making sure not to startle him. He's pulling back an arrow and releasing it incorrectly. There's almost no power to it and Henry is so defeated. He looks tired, completely sick of the task he's obviously been practising for hours.

She stays somewhat hidden for a moment longer, lets him try one more time, but it's the same. The arrow falls before reaching the target, only this time, Henry sighs heavily and begins to cry.

"Henry..." she all but whimpers.

"I can't do it," he ridicules himself, wiping away the wetness on his cheeks before picking up the arrow again and going back to his firing spot. "He was supposed to teach us. Remember? He was supposed to teach all of us. Look at how awful I am. He would have been so disappointed."

"He could never be be disappointed in you," she assures. Robin was always praising Henry's maturity, his ability to make her smile like nobody else. Robin could sleep easier knowing that she had a son like him.

He accidentally drops the arrow and groans loudly, angry at himself and he kicks up some dirt. She's never seen him act this way, and it's gut wrenchingly sad to see him struggle so much, to see him battling with the storm of emotions inside that have nowhere to go.

All this time, the town has been focussed on her. Everyone has checked in on how  _she's_  doing, never inquiring about Henry or how he's handling the loss, herself included. Not once did she think to really ask if Henry was fine. Not once did she consider that he might have learned the art of concealing feelings indirectly from her.

He's bottled it up, much like she used to do, and it's fizzing out in the form of frustration, pain and anger.

"It's not fair," he growls softly, a pained sound from the back of his throat. "None of this is fair. Even when I'm the  _author_ , I'm still useless."

"Please don't talk about yourself that way, Henry."

"It isn't fair," he moans again, sniffing wildly to keep the rest of his tears bundled at his tear ducts. "I'm glad Ma is happy and all, but how is it fair that Hook gets to be here and Robin doesn't?"

"It isn't fair, sweetheart. But…" she hates the idea to come across as having given up, but her hope level is less than usual lately, and she defeatedly admits, "There's nothing we can do."

"That's bullshit."

She's taken aback at the sudden outburst but decides that this particular moment isn't the time to reprimand him or scold his language.

"We were supposed to be a family. Now he's gone, so is Roland, and I still can't use this stupid bow," he gestures the bow out in front of his face, "I've been coming here every day for a week and I still can't do it."

Henry and Robin spoke not that long ago about learning how to shoot together. Regina was apprehensive at first, the thought of untrained hands holding such a dangerous object worrying her, but she trusted Robin wholeheartedly and knew he'd keep their boys safe. So, she reluctantly agreed after a number of pouty faces and convincing kisses.

They never did get around to that outing.

"Pick up the arrow," she says, walking the few steps needed to stand next to him, before she clears her throat. "I'll teach you."

Henry's eyes widen, only a little, "You know how?"

"Yes," she smiles fondly, remembering, "I was taught by the best."

It had been during that pesky missing year. Robin sensed her bad mood and followed her to the garden, persistent as always and insisting that they do something to spare her mind of menacing thoughts. Of course, his suggestion was the darned bow. But it worked.

Henry picks up the arrow quickly, eager to hear the instruction from her.

"Face that tree," she instructs.

She helps him find the right stance, pushing and lifting shoulders, straightening his feet. She adjusts his arms so his elbow is pulled back, straight and in the correct position, teaches him to point his forefinger as a guide.

His stance is almost perfect when she mutters, "Now…"

 _Take a deep breath,_  she remembers Robin's voice whispering closely behind her ear, his warm breath sending shivers up her spine at the time, then telling her,  _And let go._

"And let go…" she whispers sadly, choking back on her sob as much as she can.

This is Henry's moment, his chance to say goodbye, and she needs to be strong for him. She bites against her inside of her cheek, ignores the tears brimming her eyes, taunting her and threatening to fall.

She's waiting for Henry to release, waiting for him to finally hit that target, but he doesn't flinch.

Instead she hears him mumble sadly, stricken with pure grief, "I don't want to let go. I'm not ready to let go of him yet."

"Neither am I, sweetheart," she steps closer to his back and squeezes his pulled back elbow. "Together?"

He nods, inhales deeply like she'd instructed him to, and lets the arrow slip from his fingers. It shoots ahead and pierces the target - not quite in the centre - but it missed the surrounding trees and dirt.

Henry laughs, a single puff of pride, "You're a good teacher."

"Not as good as Robin."

Henry drops the bow to the ground as he twists around to bury himself into her chest, exhaling the deepest sigh he can, and she gathers him in close.

"I wasn't kidding, you know," he says into her embrace. "I'm refusing to let go." Regina steps back slightly so she can stare at him with inquisitive eyes. "There has to be a way to bring him back, and I'm going to find it."

"Hades made it clear that there was no way," she counters, worried that Henry might be setting his hopes far too high, giving into the pessimist inside her, as usual.

"Hades was a villain," he argues passionately. "Villains lie when they know it'll inflict pain. I can't give up looking for a way to bring him home because an evil God who was dead set on destroying you said there's no way."

He makes an excellent point. Recalling her years of villainy, she's well aware of the things she would say to inflict the level of pain she wanted.

"You're a lot stronger that I am," she sighs, but his insistence sparks a tiny bit of hope in her belly, so she asks softly, "You really think there might be a way?"

"We won't know unless we look into every possibility, but you were  _soulmates_ ," he emphasises enthusiastically. "It has to count for something, right? It can be my new operation."

Part of her wants to say no, Hades' voice in the back of her mind dancing around and convincing her that this is just a recipe for disaster. But Henry looks so hopeful, so sure that fate will bring their family back together.

"Alright," she agrees. "But on one condition," she holds up her forefinger between them until he nods in agreement, "We do it  _together_."

A smile spreads across his face and he bends down to pick up his bow, then loops an arm around Regina's back so they can walk side by side out of the forest. She could easily use her magic, but something tells her that they need this moment in Robin's favourite place; a moment to be surrounded by the place he loved most.

"How about Operation Pixie Dust?" Henry asks.

Regina grins at the idea, pulling at Henry's shoulder to squeeze him in closer, "That's perfect."


	27. I Will Never Leave You

**Day 4: Events of 4A never happened.**

**Just a little way I would have loved to see this scene go. Huge thanks to Grace and Brittany for being amazing! Couldn't have done this without you!**

* * *

So much has happened already… and it's only been one day.

Regina returned Marian's heart after the Snow Queen's magic no longer posed a threat. Marian instantly gasped for air, frightened and confused, until she laid eyes on Robin and her anguish dissolved. She leapt up and into his arms as Regina watched, all knowing that despite being soulmates, their relationship was doomed to succumb to his honour.

But Marian shocked her with an unannounced visit to Granny's later that day and Regina listened intently with her heart wide open. Marian promised to step aside if when Robin decided to follow his heart, it led not to her, but to Regina.

And now they're sitting on a bench together, only a few feet away as Roland and Marian rekindle their relationship by the water, the relationship that death stole from them but fate so graciously gave back.

It's bittersweet. She's watching a family, once ripped apart, become whole again, and she already knows the outcome when it comes to her and Robin. Her stomach has been in knots since the second he invited her along on this outing; he is going to live his life with Marian… for Roland's sake.

She's so mentally prepared for the heartache, at least she thinks she is. She's played the moment out in her head a hundred times so that she could perfect her reaction - mild disappointment but understanding - at least that's how she wants it to seem. Though in this moment, she can't seem to bear the thought of hearing him say the words, so she does it for him.

She tells him that she understands, that their children come first. She starts muttering off the things she has been using for her own rationalisation, all the things she imagines  _he_  would say to soften the blow, to convince her that it's the right thing.

Robin turns a little on the bench, narrows his eyes in her direction and sincerely announces, "Regina, I choose  _you_."

He's gazing upon her as if he's amazed that she hadn't already figured that out, and she's halfway to a scoff when she notices the anchoring candor in his eyes, the gentle seriousness.

Still, she convinces herself that this is a trick, her face expressing just that. She's in disbelief, shock, and it's taking the strength of a thousand armies for her to not physically reach up to pinch her own arms.

He persists, doesn't let his eyes fall from her aporetic stare until his sincerity settles, but there's so much running around in her mind -  _how_  could he choose her? How is Roland supposed to make sense of him being with someone who isn't his mother?

He shushes her, emphasising that following his heart is a much better lesson to teach him than to show him that living a lie is the easy way out when the going gets tough. The only way he can possibly live an honourable life is to follow his heart, he is so sure of it.

Robin unfolds their story between them, the page that appeared when she needed it most of all, the curveball in her relentless search for the author. Her heart flutters while they both study their page, their  _could have been_ , and then sneak a glimpse at one another, grinning happily.

She feels a divine rush of happiness, but it's short lived, and panic sets in for a moment. She's anxiously waiting to feel the brunt force of fate to slap her in the face, the way it always does when she feels the tiniest glimmer of joy. But it doesn't come.

"Really?" She asks, just to be sure.

Robin chuckles lightly, leans in slowly and captures her lips with his own. It's gentle, soft - it's a promise.

"I love you," he whispers, nudging his nose tenderly against hers.

They look out to Roland and Marian and while Roland seems unmoved, Marian meets Regina's eyes, bowing her head in a polite, curt nod, one that Regina returns.

Marian points over to Regina, whispering something to Roland. Suddenly Roland and his little legs are running as fast as they can until he barrels into her knees excitedly, begging her to come and play.

She stands, picking Roland up and he wraps his legs around her middle, his arms around her neck, and before she carries him over to the edge of the water, she smiles down at Robin.

"I love you too."


	28. Pillow Talk

**Day 5: "We'd just laugh at everything they got wrong." Off-Screen Day!**

**Big thanks to Grace for her bae-ta powers. Enjoy!**

* * *

Emma very graciously offered to care for Roland and Henry tonight, promising them a night of fun, video games, and absolutely  _no_ unnecessary sugar.  _You and Robin deserve some fun of your own_ , Emma quipped cheekily as she made her way down to her deathtrap of a vehicle.

Regina would have reacted more if it wasn't what she and Robin were exactly planning on doing. For once, there are no battles to fight, no evil beings trying to rip their happiness away, so without a doubt, they were going to make the most of every second.

It was a pleasantly slow evening - dinner, some quiet conversation in the den, a bit of a snuggle before they retreated to the bedroom for some of that  _fun_  they deserved. Clothes were shed, kisses were shared, caressing became dragged nails across his skin until Robin is spent and Regina is light-headed and trembling.

Robin watches her lovingly as she steps out of bed, leans down to pick up his moss green t-shirt and pulls it over he head. He is quick to gather her back under the comforter to share lingering kisses and whispered pillow talk, conversations about anything and everything; enrolling Roland in school, their favourite foods, and, at the moment, a decent discussion about Robin Hood folklore.

She knew having that book of Robin Hood tales was going to come up eventually and he's not entirely thrilled.

" _Tights?!_ " He scorns as his eyes widen towards to storybook page. He slumps against the headboard as she lays flat with her head against the pillow, her arm strewn across his waist, and she begins to laugh madly against his hipbone. "And this  _hat?!_ " He points at the illustration, mouth agape and borderline offended.

"It's only a story," she murmurs, kissing his skin, smirking at the irony of her statement.

"Yes, one where they think Little John is on par with me when it comes to archery," he scoffs. "You must come to my camp tomorrow so I can prove how ridiculous this is."

"I must say," she says, lifting herself up so they sit side-by-side, their shoulders pressed together, "Seeing you this flustered is very amusing."

"Amusing?" He flips the offending book closed and drops it on the side table, twisting back to face her and asks again, "Amusing?" Pursing her lips and shrugging her shoulders, her giggle hums in the back of her throat. "I'll show you amusing."

She couldn't have prepared for the way his fingers begin to tickle at her side through the soft cotton of his shirt. She feels as if she's lost all control to this annoyingly funny sensation that's causing her to writhe. She's never been tickled before, not even as a child. She's only ever tickled Henry as a small boy, when they were playing or whenever she missed the sound of his childish glee. It's one of how favourite sounds and it's so similar to the sounds she's making right now; laughter with zero inhibition.

She squirms to get away from Robin, breathlessly begging him to  _stop_  through heavy inhales and snorts.

"Do you still find it amusing?" He asks through his own bout of snickering, refusing to let up on his playful assault to her sides. He's trapped her in his arms, a tight grip that she's no chance of freeing herself from. She could use magic but she can't focus enough, she's twitching too hard, laughing too much. "Say it's not amusing and I'll let you go."

"Okay," she yells brightly, "It's not amusing! It's not amusing, I take it back."

When he stops, his lips meet the top of her head, mumbling a simple  _Good_  in her hair before she collapses back into his chest, resting into the position in his lap she's managed to twist into.

He breathes heavily as he grins into the crook of her neck, "I never knew you were so ticklish, milady."

"Neither did I," she says through deep exhales as she still tries to catch her breath. She's engulfed in the light-headed feeling of almost childish joy when she reaches to her left to pick up the book of tales again, grinning when his criticising groan vibrates against her skin. "It's funny how much they got wrong."

"I loathe to think how many people actually think this of me."

"Wait until you see your Disney movie," Regina teases, twisting around and swinging her leg over his body to straddle him. She leans forwards, swipes her nose against him, and says in a deliciously taunting whisper, "You're a fox in that."

His eyes bug open, utterly disbelieving. "You're enjoying this far too much."

"Absolutely," she chuckles, kissing him chastely, wrapping her arms around his neck. "But no need to worry, I know how brilliant and tights-free you are."

"Enough with the tights." He throws back his head through chuckled groans, his face scrunching up as he reacts to her relentless teasing. "Would you still like me if I wore tights every day?"

"Not a chance," she quips quickly, ignoring his exaggerated pout, "I'd still love you though."

She can't believe how easy that was to say. How easily it slipped from her throat like the truest words she's ever spoken - the scary l-word that has been on the tip of her tongue for weeks - and his breath hitches. "But the second you wear a hat like that, I'm out."

He cracks a wide, amused expression, shaking his head at her joke and runs his hands under the shirt she's wearing, gliding his palms up her soft skin. "I love you too."

"You won't when I show Roland that movie," she jokes, cocking an eyebrow.

He gasps, feigning hurt, "You wouldn't dare."

"Wouldn't I?"

"Perhaps I could convince you to spare me such embarrassment…" He nips at her jaw with his teeth, soothing each gentle bite with a kiss to which she sighs charmingly, tilting her head back so Robin can drag his lips down her neck.

He definitely starts to convince her, showing interest to his terms by humming a soft, "hmm, perhaps," while his hands slide down her back again until they can fist at the fabric of his shirt, pulling it up and over her head, leaving her entirely bare before him once again.

"I really do love you," he promises as his lips search for her scorching kiss, her eager adoration.

"I know."


	29. Come Inside

**Day 6! No beta this time because I am terrible at writing at reasonable hours of the day. Enjoy!**

* * *

For the last week or so, ever since Henry started coming into the bar and she ripped up that contract in front of Victoria's face, Roni has been noticing an unfamiliar face lingering at the door to her bar. Everyday, bang on 8.15pm, he'll stand there, peering in for thirty seconds or so and then he'll walk away.

The first couple of nights, she passed it off as him being curious, maybe someone craving a drink but talking himself out of it at the last minute. But now she's not so sure.

"Henry, hold the fort, will you?" Roni asks, throwing down a damp towel behind the bar. She chuckles at Henry's confused  _Uh, okay?_ while she's walking with purpose towards to door.

The unknown man has scurried away by the time her hands push against the textured wood, but she steps out into the cool street anyway, lets the mild wind brush against her bare shoulders, ruffle her curls a little bit. She looks left, looks ahead, and when she looks to her right, she catches a glimpse of his back walking away.

"Hey!" She yells through cupped hands against her mouth, "You!" She has his attention. He turns around to face her, confused, even turns to look in other directions to see if there's anyone else she could be calling out to. "No, it's you," she confirms.

They walk towards each other to meet in the middle, the heels of her ankle boots clicking against the concrete until he's towering over her slightly.

"Who are you?" She asks, perching her hands on her hips, tilting her head up.

"Excuse me?" She's as surprised by his accent as he is by her question, not expecting the English drawl at all.

Roni snorts a scoff, pointing over her shoulder to the sign outside, "You stand outside my bar every night and then disappear. Why?"

She immediately can tell that he's nervous, embarrassed almost. The dimples in his cheek soften as his face falls and rubs behind his neck charily, choking on his own words, "I… uh…"

Roni eyes him up and down, trying to place him. He's in a suit, one that's pristinely tailored, and the side bag hanging from his shoulders screams businessman. He's giving off the vibe of Victoria's dirty-doers. "You're not one of Belfry's spies are you?" She asks, narrowing her eyes to study every way his face moves, looking for anything that'll give him away. He chortles as if she's just insulted him, telling her firmly that while he unfortunately works for Victoria, he hardly a spy, and seems pretty genuine about it. "Then why are you here?" She asks.

"I…" he chokes on his words again, sighing as he asks, "Would you believe me if I said I don't know?"

"You don't know why you stand outside to my bar every night?"

"I don't even know why I  _come_  to your bar," he confesses and gestures to the bench on his left, inviting her to join him as he sits, "I drive twenty minutes out of my way on my commute home." She crosses her legs and leans her back into the arm of the bench to get another good look at him. "Victoria has been talking about your bar for months, she was  _furious_  last week when you didn't sign that contract…" Roni smiles proudly at that, and he laughs softly, "Maybe it was all the talk of your place, but something pulled me here. I feel like I need to be here."

"But you never come inside" Roni shrugs her shoulders curiously, clasping her hands together with linked fingers in her lap.

"It's strange. When I get here, I walk right up to the entrance and I think I'm going to be able to walk through that door…" he slaps his hands to his thighs, "and then I feel this pit in my stomach, almost as if I'm afraid to come inside."

Roni shakes her head, assures that, "The only things to fear in there are a couple of my regulars and their questionable music taste."

She makes him laugh comfortably, but he's still lost as to his own actions, explaining that he still can't explain it. "I'm sorry, if i've been making you uncomfortable or-"

"I'm not," she smiles tightly. She senses a pain in him and suddenly a familiarity - something about his situation, the bar, the fear of entering. "Hey, do you think we've met before? Maybe we've crossed paths and that's why you're feeling uneasy," She asks, unable to shake the unexpected feeling.

"I doubt I'd ever forget meeting you," he shakes his head at her suggestion.

She hums in agreement, a face like his is hardly one she could forget. She stands from the bench, "How about the next time you feel the need to stop by, you actually come inside? There's no point living your life staring through the window of a bar and letting fear take over," she winks before adding, "I'll even throw in a drink on the house."

He nods and smiles tightly as he stands to join her, and he stretches his hand out politely, introducing himself, "I'm Robert, by the way."

"Roni," she takes his hand easily, shaking it kindly. "I should really get back to work."

"Right," he nods, but still neither of them want to let go of the other's hand. They've stopped shaking, but it's as if their skin has fused together and neither can budge.

"Did you want that drink now?" She asks.

"I'd like that."


	30. Wildcard

**Day 6 and I'm using my wildcard! Here's a little sneak into a new multichap I'm writing - Raven Locksley-Mills and Henry Mills meet unexpectedly and journey together to find a way to bring back Robin Hood. This sneak peek is a little look into Raven's last night with her parents.**

**Enjoy and apologies for the mistakes!**

* * *

Raven Locksley-Mills considers herself to be an equal mix of her mother and her father - from dark hair and a defined jawline to the magic coursing through her veins and being undeniably quick on her feet.

She's the product of the one of the strongest and most unique loves imaginable; her parents are special - they're soulmates, only they aren't your typical soulmates. This version of Regina Mills and Robin of Locksley are souls that were never even meant to  _exist_ , let alone find their way to each other, and yet they did.

Their love was their second chance, their fresh start and together they raised Raven splendidly.

Raven adores her parents, loves who they are as people, loves what they stand for, and is proud to call them family. In other realms, they have been previously feared, her mother was once commonly known as The  _Evil_ Queen but nowadays, she much prefers just  _Regina_  and her father, well, he's made a few enemies along the way but he has focussed his efforts on helping those in need instead of selfishly fending for himself.

They have their hiccups here and there, but who doesn't? All that matters is that they have given Raven everything she needs to feel like she's independent and strong and she hopes they remember that when tomorrow comes.

It's Raven's birthday tomorrow and she can't sleep. Robin has promised to take her shooting in the morning, but that's not why she's restless, in fact, she won't even be making that outing. She's tossing around in her soft bed, kicking the comforter off, pulling it back on, kicking it off again, and it's all because she is nervous.

Tomorrow is the last day she'll spend in The Enchanted Forest. In  _this_  realm, at least. And her parents don't know it.

Her entire life, Raven has heard the story of Robin Hood and Regina Mills over and over again. She knows how they fell in love, how fate brought them together, and how they were hastily torn apart. And for years, Raven has never been able to accept how their story ended. The cruel, twisted hand of fate infuriates her and that anger and frustration is why she has to leave.

Raven feels so strongly, a fluttering feeling in her soul, that Robin Hood is still out there, that his soul is trapped somewhere just waiting to be found. And tomorrow is the day she leaves on her quest for answers and, hopefully, to begin the journey to return Robin Hood's soul to its mate.


	31. Something Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 (Monday) of Happy Ending Week: Bandit OQ.

_Something Blue_

Of all the things Regina thought she would be doing on the day of her wedding, scaling down a thirty foot cobbled wall wasn't even in the realm of possibilities. And losing her footing wasn't exactly on her list of things to do either.

Luckily, when she slips, she isn't too far from the ground and lands firmly on her back with an  _oomph_  and a groan, and then a sharp gasp when she opens her eyes and sees nothing but red racing towards her from above.

Her partner in crime, Red, whines through a deep exhale when her back collides with the ground next to Regina. " _Ouch._ "

"We should have worked on our escape plan a little better," Regina groans as she sits up slightly so she's perched on her elbows. "But at least we are in the clear now. Are you okay?"

"Just please tell me you got what you were looking for?" Red asks, struggling to free herself from the way her grand, red cape has twisted and trapped itself around her body. Regina stands and digs in her pocket for the treasure she had been hunting for, safely cushioned inside a small satchel that that sorry excuse for a sheriff had once stolen from Robin. "That's it?! You chose today, of all days, to steal something so small?"

Red couldn't be more wrong, though. Despite its size, this little leather satchel is everything. "There's nothing small about it," Regina promises, taking Red's hand and helping her stand upright. "Take a look."

Red takes the satchel and loosens its tassels, peering inside before pouring the contents into her cupped hand. To a stranger, it might not seem like much, but the necklace inside is something Regina's had her heart set on finding since the second she heard of its existence.

Red's head snaps up almost immediately after she investigates the delicate gold chain and the sapphire pendant dangling from it. "Is this…?" Regina nods her head proudly. "I thought there was no way to get this back?"

Her lips twitch up into a simple smile filled with pride, "I hate being told that something's unachievable."

It was quite a while ago that Robin had disclosed the story of the one and only possession that he considered to be invaluable; a necklace that his mother wore around her neck in every memory that Robin has of her. She never took it off, not until just before she breathed her last breath and it became Robin's only remaining part of her. At least that was the case until Nottingham snatched it away from him as a sick tactic in the twisted game he and Robin seemed to constantly be playing.

Regina immediately suggested that they claim it back, but Robin was adamant that the dangers and risks were too great, that making their way into Nottingham's territory would be next to impossible. But with Red by her side, it was easy to charm their way inside and lurk until Nottingham let his guard down.

Red carefully seals the treasure back inside and laughs brightly, and Regina shrugs her shoulders. "After everything you two have been through, you're still trying to prove you're more of a bandit."

"I will always be the better bandit," she sasses, "But Robin wanted to give this to me to wear today." She takes the satchel back, "And there was no way I could marry him without having even tried to make sure I could."

Red  _aww_ 's like she always does at even the slightest sign of her love for Robin, and Regina rolls her eyes instantly. " _Don't._ "

"You can be such a softie sometimes," Red teases, poking at her shoulder playfully.

"And I can still uninvite you, y'know," Regina retorts. "But I would never."

"Speaking of the wedding," Red says, pointing off into the distance where the sun is falling lower and lower after each second it seems. "We need to go."

Regina notices as wisps of oranges and pinks engulf the sky and realises just how much longer that particular heist had taken. "Shit," she curses, quickly pulling herself together, adjusting the belt around her vest from where it had shifted to during their fall. "Little John is going to kill me."

"John wouldn't dare," Red snorts. "He knows better than that."

Red pushes her in the opposite direction, back to where they had abandoned their horses, and they ride as fast as they can through the forest. To no surprise, Little John is perched by a cart just shy of the church doors with his arms crossed, shaking his head at the pair when they pull back on their reigns and stop next to him.

"Everyone is waiting for you," he scolds, helping Regina from her horse politely.

John helps Red from her horse, too, takes both of their hands as he all but drags them into the nearby house. He marches right into the main room to a table covered with a layer of burlap, and asks, "Where have you been?"

"I had some business to attend to," Regina smirks, starting to loosen the buckle of her belt, quickly shedding her leather vest and dropping it hastily to the dirty floor, leaving her in her grass stained tunic and thin breeches.

"Do you have it?" Regina asks, looking around John's belongings. She'd trusted John implicitly with literally every little detail for this day, but she'd be lying if she said she wasn't even a little bit nervous about this part.

"I do," he nods, "but I need you to keep an open mind; you don't seem like the flashy type to me, so…" John pulls away a layer of burlap and picks up the dress it had been hiding delicately.

It's beautiful, the kind of beautiful that takes her breath away. It's nothing she ever would have picked out for herself, but somehow John managed to capture every ounce of her in one garment. "My mother made it," John tells her as Regina reaches to brush her fingertips over the crocheted lace that drapes all the way to the floor.

Regina exhales, taken aback by the way her eyes have watered at the kind gesture. "It's perfect," she breathes. It's an off white colour, something she doesn't have to worry about getting a little messy, the thick shoulder straps are angled just right to compliment the deep v neckline - it's not enough to make her uncomfortable but enough to drive Robin a little crazy, she's sure.

"If only the same could be said for your hair," John says playfully in retort, groaning a little bit, "You're filthy." He licks his thumb and rubs it across her jawline, "Were you off rolling in the mud or something?"

"Or something," she smirks.

Red chuckles from behind them, "It's Robin's own fault; he had to go ahead and bring up that necklace, didn't he?"

"You didn't…" John's eyes widen and follow Regina's nods down towards her discarded vest. He reaches for it and finds the satchel and carefully pulls the chained jewel from inside. "You're mad," John laughs lightly, admiring the object carefully.

"Hardly…" Regina sticks her tongue out as Red approaches.

She's abandoned her cloak to help Regina pull away her shirt and shimmy into the ethereal dress, murmuring a bright  _gorgeous_  as Regina gives a brief twirl around for them both. "And I don't even need to change," she notes, emphasising the length of the dress by lifting it up slightly to show her tall brown boots and breeches and dropping it again to gather on the ground; nobody will have a clue. "I'm so grateful, John. Truly. This is more than I could have ever imagined."

He smiles sheepishly, bowing his face away to hide the slight blush of his cheeks as he stands tall behind her and asks her to hold up her hair. He fastens the necklace around her neck and asks her to spin to face him. "He's going to be beside himself when he sees you," he compliments, but adds, "But there's actually one more thing." He shows her a delicate string of daisies that's falling from the gentle grasp of his hand. "My mother insisted."

Regina narrows her eyes at him, in fun, of course. He'd been joking about the flowers in her hair from the very beginning, but even she can't deny that they would look lovely with his mother's creation. Red unties Regina's hair, carefully fingering her way through any large knots until Regina's hair is a nice collection of soft curls and the flowers can be settled gracefully on her head.

"How do I look?" Regina asks, unsure from the wide-eyed gazes that could mean either good or bad news. "Is it too much?"

But their faces explode with bright smiles. "Not even close," Red assures her.

They walk the short distance to the main entrance of the church, and John and Red slip inside the quickly - Red, of course, turning back one last time with a giddy grin and a girlish squeal of excitement. She's far more into the hype around the fancy affair, but Regina can't help but be a little bit excited with a fluttering of butterflies in her stomach.

Robin was surprised when she suggested having the ceremony at this particular church, the one that she couldn't step into on the day that almost claimed her life, but it seemed fitting. Like she did the last time she was faced with these solid wooden doors, she creaks it open, just a crack, and peeks her head inside. His eyes are the first things she sees, icy blue orbs that shine every more when they catch her gaze. They linger, but only a moment, and she realises why she wanted to come back to this church; she can't bear the thought the last time she was here, peering into the church as Robin was about to promise his love to another. At least now she can paint over that bad day with a good one.

Robin smiles at her gently from inside and it warms her soul, cracking the slightest of smiles back before pushing the door open entirely and walking inside. She's not one for a rhythmic step by step down the aisle, so her stride is relatively quick and she's by his side almost in a heartbeat, whispering a gentle, "Sorry, I'm late."

Robin can't take his eyes from her, telling her that  _it's quite alright_  before catching the glimmer of his mother's necklace around her neck. He tickles her skin as his fingers trace up her bare arm and across until he can pinch the precious gem between his fingertips. He huffs out a shuddering exhale, the way he does when he's overcome with emotion and is struck by a loss of words. Smiling softly, she lets him take it in and gives him a moment to remember his mother and let these feelings wash over him before their first steps on this new adventure.

When a tear trickles down his cheek, she reaches up to wipe it away with her thumb, lingering as her hand cups his cheek and he drops the pendant against her skin again. Despite their small gathering of an audience, he steps in closer to her, drops his forehead to hers and chuckles softly, donning that smug grin that she's come to love over time.

"You will always surprise me," he whispers.

"That's the plan," she winks, grazing her bottom lip with her teeth as she holds his hands tightly in her own. "Now, shut up and marry me."


	32. New Taste

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Huge thank you to Brittany for getting me on this. And thanks to Lisa for the prompt! Day 3 (DarkOQ) of Happy Ending Week. I JUST made it. It's still Wednesday in LA!

Regina could fucking kill him.

Right now. With her bare hands. No magic, like he's been demanding all night.

She supposes it's  _partly_  her own fault for giving into his dumb challenge last night, but for the most part, she just wants to fucking kill him.

As much as she hates to admit it, there's very little Robin couldn't talk her into when they are curled up in bed. With his their bodies fused and glistening with sweat, especially when he's peppering those kisses up her back - some sweet, some with a little more… bite. Ugh, it drives her crazy.

He was utterly insatiable last night. From the moment he got home, he just had to have her, over and over until they were both quite literally spent.

" _Where did that come from?" she asked, rolling over to her front and away from his assault of kisses for a moment._

" _Can't I just enjoy coming home to you?" He grinned, reaching for her back, but she rolled further away from him. "Tease…" he muttered._

" _You are always so…" she considered the right word for a moment. "...giddy after a heist. I've been on several with you, there's not much to be giddy about."_

" _Ah, pardon my disagreement, darling," he chuckled, "But heists with you are a tad different."_

" _How?"_

" _You always use magic. It can take the fun out of it sometimes. Sneaking into a place, a swift escape, it can be entirely exhilarating."_

_She scoffed loudly, "And am I not exhilarating enough for you?" She poked fun at him, entirely in jest, but it still had him scrambling across the sheets to gather her back up with determined, hot, open mouthed kisses in between promises of just how breathtaking she is._

_He slowed for a moment, suggesting, "You should come with me tomorrow. But no magic. At all. You can get a taste of what I'm talking about."_

_She considered it for a moment and figured there would be no harm to it. "Fine. But only if that's not the only thing I get a taste of afterwards."_

And that's how she's ended up in this stupid fucking situation.

The heist itself when great. Did she think it would have been much easier to just poof in, grab what they desired, and leave? Absolutely, but despite being mostly bored, it was fine.

Then all hell broke loose and they were being chased by at least seventeen very angry men. And Robin still wouldn't let her use her magic.

"Nope," he grins smugly. "We agreed. No magic."

"You can't be serious?" she scoffs, but he just laughs at her.  _Laughs_  before taking her hand and he starts towing her through some unknown part of the forest.

They're running. Being chased. And while entirely struggling for breath, Robin calls over his shoulder, "You're going to loathe my very existence in a moment."

She groans. Thinks for a second that it's cute he doesn't already think she loathes him for practically dragging her ass through dirt and darkness. And just when she possibly thinks it couldn't get any worse, it does.

In the distance, the forest just seems to stop. All she can see is an edge and then sky. When they near the edge, Robin slows them down, bends over and tries to catch his breath as Regina looks down at the long drop into a large body of water.

"No," she says blindly. There's not a chance in Hell. "Absolutely not."

"Ah, but you must," he argues. "You wanted to experience a true heist, did you not?"

Asshole.

"But at what cost?" she whines, staring down at the drop again. "My dress will get too heavy," she says, so sure that it's a valid enough reason for him to just drop this foolish no magic rule and let her take them home.

"Then take it off."

She snaps her head at him. " _Excuse_  me?"

Then from behind them, the loud, fast paced footsteps of their enemies start to sound closer and closer, and she realises she has two options: strip and jump or be proven wrong. And only one of those is acceptable.

She groans from deep in her chest, turns around as tells him, "Help me."

He works on loosening the back while she kicks off her shoes, rolling her eyes when he mutters under his breath about her choice of attire. It's not exactly something she's had to consider before when popping in and out with magic was so simple. Nevertheless, together they help her shimmy out of the large, black dress (gorgeous as well, and one of his favourites) she's been wearing. She steps out from it in her corset and thin underskirt and looks at him as if to say  _happy now?_

"That may be record time for undressing you, darling," he teases, taking her hand and asking if she's ready.

But no, of course she's not fucking ready.

That doesn't seem to matter. He takes the leap with her hand tight in his, and they're dropping down and down and down, the feeling in her gut driving her stomach all the way up to her throat. She knows she yelped a little, but God help him if he brings it up. Then she's enveloped by freezing cold water. It allows her stomach to settle as she wades around below the water before swimming up until she can fill her lungs once again.

Robin's head pops up just moments after and she looks up. The men chasing her are staring down at their insane jump, none of them quite brave enough to make the same choice.

Robin begins to swim to the water's edge, and she follows blindly. It's cold. Freezing, actually. Entirely out of character, she crawls along the grassy ground once free from the water and collapses on her back, entirely drenched head to toe, staring up at the starry night sky that she very rarely takes the time to enjoy.

Her heart is racing, pounding. Her blood is racing around her body at a high speed and she's tingling from the centre of her chest all the way to the ends of her fingers and toes.

Robin laughs,  _again_ , only this time, she doesn't feel like killing him. Not yet, anyway.

"Feeling  _exhilarated?_ " He asks, joining her on his back, their cold, wet shoulders touching each other, and Robin holds the bag of jewels they'd snuck away with high above him.

He was right. She'll never dare say it out loud to him (his ego doesn't need like kind of fluffing), but he was so, so right.

She's not much of a giggler. And by not much, she means she's never a giggler. But, alas, giggles start bubbling in her chest as she really considers the folly of it all; her dress being ripped off and abandoned, running like mad. He was so right. It  _is_ exhilarating.

They're laughing together, and she rolls over to straddle him gently, leaning down and pressing a laugh-filled kiss against his lips. They're soft at first, little pecks between breathy chuckles, but then they become more - deeper, harder, and with a fervent urgent need to be somewhere a little more comfortable than the forest floor.

"Please tell me I can use magic now," she asks breathlessly against his hungry lips.

He nibbles across her jaw, his scruff scratching gloriously as he responds with a desperate, "Home. Now."

Her next kiss engulfs then in a bright purple bubble of magic, transporting them home urgently for that  _other_  taste he promised her.


	33. Meant To Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another huge thank you to Britt! Day 5 of OQHappyEndingWeek (Cursed). There will be a smutilicious part two to this once I stop freaking out about posting it, haha. Hope you enjoy the fluffy fluff, though!

It was a late night at the bar. She's not sure what the event was, but it brought in the business and a rowdy bunch of guys willing to throw money across the bar. Any money is good money nowadays, and with tonight's service, she might actually be able to keep Belfrey's greedy hands away from her establishment so it can live another day.

She's exhausted. More than exhausted. She cleans up the bar lazily (to the point where it's going to need another rub down with sanitizer tomorrow before she opens) and locks up.

Roni flips the lights off to the ground floor and climbs up the creaky, spiral staircase, ignoring the burn in her overworked legs.

Those boots are the first to go. They may be an undeniably gorgeous burgundy colour, but they aren't as nice to her feet as they are on the eyes. She abandons them just at the top of the staircase, and she wastes no time to strip off her jeans, leaving them strewn on the cool, wooden floor before the entryway to her bedroom.

She has every intention of crawling right straight into bed, so in the darkness, she reaches up the back of her shirt to undo the clasp of her bra and shimmies it out of her shirt expertly. An oversized Def Leppard shirt and black lace are acceptable sleeping attire and no one could convince her otherwise at this point.

Crawling onto her mattress, she tries to avoid Ryan's warm body. She'd hate to wake him after his long day and, no doubt, his very early start tomorrow, but her efforts are rendered pointless. He stirs when she tucks herself into the mattress, and he reaches over to switch the dim lamplight on from the bedside table.

Her eyes close immediately, but she hears him reach for his phone and click it on, and when he groans, "Have you only just finished?"

"Mhmm," she hums, still refusing to open her eyes. "... tired."

"I bet you are," he sighs, turning over in bed to gather her up close and hold her tightly. She adjusts so her head is against his chest, and she sinks right into him. "You should have called me down to help," he tells her, but she shushes him immediately, tells him that he's her boyfriend, not a backup employee.

His hands are wandering calmingly; he's always been good with his hands. Ever since the day she stumbled upon his tattoo studio with an idea and a little bit of liquid courage, she knew that she wanted a lifetime with those hands.

Her tattoo is one of his favourite pieces, which always surprised her since it was so simple, but he really does love it. His fingers always trace the length of the arrow tattooed across her ribcage when they cosied up in bed. And tonight's no exception.

She chuckles into his warm skin when the soft touch of his fingertips start to tickle at her, and she cranes her neck up to tell him so, kissing him chastely. But the second their lips touch each other, they are overcome with a hunger for each other.

Ryan immediately presses from the mattress, climbing his way to tower over her, careful not to have his weight fall heavily on her, but she eagerly wraps her legs around him, pulling him down closer and deepening the already needy kiss.

His hands are still wandering. Painfully slow, he tickles up her sides, taking the hem of her shirt along the way until her shirt is tucked under her arms and she's exposed to him.

His lips drag from her lips, down and across her jaw. He nips gently down the length of her neck, across her collarbone, and she whines from the back of her throat when he shimmies down her body to cover her bare stomach with open mouthed kisses, skipping over her chest which is practically screaming for his attention.

But then he stops suddenly. He looks up at her and crawls up her body again, settling fondly between her legs and takes a hot minute to gaze into her eyes - he does that sometimes, but he's got some interesting timing tonight.

"You better have a good reason for stopping like that," she jokes, winking at him, but he is stricken with a look that translates as nervousness. She tilts her head, "Are you okay?"

"I'm in love with you; you know that, right?"

Her heart flutters and starts beating so fast that she's almost positive he can feel it in his own rib cage. "You are?" she asks in a whisper.

He nods. He's made himself speechless, she thinks, and she chuckles softly. "I love you, too."

"You do?" he asks.

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

And between more hearty laughter, she says, "Of course, I'm sure."

"No one's ever loved me back before," he tells her sheepishly, and it breaks her heart a little bit. Telling her must have taken every ounce of courage he had. "I've always thought that I was cursed." He uses his thumb to stroke over her cheek. "I just never thought I'd have this."

Her frown is small, but she makes sure to kiss him immediately. It's soft and loving, something gentler than she's used to giving, and then she's overcome with this feeling, something she can't quite explain. Like she's found home after years of being lost.

All she knows is this is where she's meant to be; with him.


	34. Only You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 7! I can't believe we made it. I am so excited to finally sit and just read, read, read through everyone's entries. It's been real Happy Ending Week. Until next time, enjoy! Thanks Britt!!!!

Even with Robin's hand tightly in hers and a tiny Roland at their feet, Regina is nervous as hell. She's relieved, there's no doubt about that; Emma and Hook were home safely, which certainly was cause for celebration.

But this is new to her.

She usually walks into these things alone and fearful eyes would fall upon her as the bell above Granny's door rang out. This time she's met with surprised looks, a few dotted smiles here and there, and of course, to no one's surprise, a  _very_  enthusiastically giddy grin plastered on Snow's face.

"Sorry, we're late," Robin announces cheerfully, waving to the crowd, and Snow eats it up, grinning even more. If only Robin knew.

Emma waves back from the bar with her pirate, beers in hand, as they chat with David with wide smiles. She reaches back to get Henry's attention and points him over to his other mother. Regina smiles fondly as Henry makes his way over to them, being met very excitedly halfway by Roland.

There's a booth open, and Robin guides her to it gently, looking back with a comforting smile when he feels the tiny bit of resistance in her movement. "You alright?"

"Mhmm," she nods, stepping the short distance to the booth to then slide in with him.

Henry is already smitten with Robin and Roland.  _Even more than you are, Milady_ , Robin teases, and she swats his shoulder gently. It's nice though, feeling more at home at Granny's. Henry is introducing Roland around the room to everyone, and they get through almost everyone until Roland's attention is stolen by the bright coloured lights of the jukebox.

They watch as Henry lifts Roland high to see the music choices and make some serious decisions about the best music for the party. After their selections, they walk back passed Regina, and Henry drops a kiss to his mother's cheek.

"What did you do?" she asks with narrowed eyes, only to receive a less than guilt-free  _nothing_  as a reply before he scurries off.

That's when the music plays, and she almost laughs. During the curse, music was very much Regina's escape, and it's something she and Henry most definitely share. He knows she loves this song, knows the way it makes her feel.

She looks at Robin as the familiar melody of  _Only You_  echoes its way through the diner. "I love this song," she confesses, trying her best not to allow her cheeks to turn too red.

"I can't say I know it," he grins, biting his lower lip as he scoots closer, and she could just melt. And she does when he leans in to close that tiny gap between them, capturing her lips as carefully as he's captured her heart in the recent weeks.

Sure, it's not the way she planned it, but if this is what the beginning of her happily ever after feels like, she can't wait to see how this new chapter plays out.


	35. Into The Ether

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Friday entry for Angst Week: Prompt 43 - I miss you.

It's been three days since she watched him die for her, only six hours since they lowered him into the cold ground as a final resting place, and tonight… well, tonight brings the same dark pain as the other lonely nights, if not worse.

She's wide awake, strewn across her bed with heavy eyelids and an even heavier heart. All day she felt like she had to keep it together. Everyone was treading around her like she was a bomb just ticking away, gearing up to explode at any second, and truth be told, when the universe decided to gift her with one final punch to the gut, she almost did. Seeing Hook walk through Granny's was the final twist she allowed that knife to have. She pulled it out, there and then, not caring if she would bleed out until her last breath, and marched straight home.

She crawled into bed, still in her dress and shoes, and she hasn't moved since, except for reaching over to her nightstand for Robin's deep red scarf and bringing it up to her nose - without at least the smell of him around her she doesn't think she'll be strong enough for a tomorrow. So she's keeping a tight grasp on that scarf, and, though she'd never admit it out loud, she might skip cleaning her sheets this week.

Sleeping is out of the question. The night she lost him, she was desperate to search for him in her dreams like she had once before, only that time she was plagued with replay after replay of his sacrifice.

Something urges her upright, though. A feeling in her gut - a desperation almost. She was so focussed on everyone else, she barely had a second to grieve the loss, and she deserves to grieve at the very least. She deserves to lose herself in sadness even for a minute without the fear of being reduced to nothing more than a woman with little control over her morality.

She pulls herself from where her mattress has molded to the shape of her and wanders outside into the cold, wet night. It's been raining since this morning, the world sobbing the way she has been desperate to. She probably should have considered a coat or an umbrella, but the chilly downpour against her face is surprisingly pleasant, and the way the moon is shining down on the streets through the droplets creates an almost ethereal feel - like she's somewhere else… anywhere else.

Robin loved moonlight. He always said it had the power to bring hidden secrets to the surface, that somehow her eyes looked even more honest and true in it, and as she walks through Storybrooke in the early hours of the morning, she wonders what her eyes look like now.

Are they screaming that she's not okay or are they empty? Is the moonlight drawing out her heartache? She bows her head mostly on the walk to the graveyard, not sure if she really wants to know what's hidden behind her walls right now.

As she nears his resting place, she tries to focus on anything else, but it would appear that Marco has created a beautiful stone for Robin and erected it privately without her knowing, and it's easily his finest work; it's strong like Robin was, perfectly shaped like the tip of an arrow, and the lion emblem etched into both warms and breaks her heart.

Completely drenched, the rain batters down around her as she kneels in front of it, not a care in the world for how her knees are sinking into the mushy dirt or that her dress is beyond filthy. How could she when the weight of Robin's sacrifice is forcing her further and further into the dirt like it's another desperate attempt to be with him again.

It's her fault.

All of it.

It has to be… losing two loves in front of her very eyes is far too much of a coincidence. She must be cursed, which is hauntingly ironic given the length of time she dedicated to casting one.

But she shoves aside the negativity, sadly sobbing a pained laugh when she can practically hear his voice telling her, " _Don't talk about yourself that way, my love."_

The stone in front of her is coarse against her hands as she carefully caresses its face. She needs to know he's safe. She's desperately wondering if Hades had been telling the truth about his soul. She can't handle the thought of him being gone entirely, so she won't. She'll go against her usual wave of doubt and choose to have hope, just this once, just for him. But if he is out there somewhere, where is he? Is he angry with her? Is there something she can do to bring him home?

Is he cold? She has his scarf, after all.

There's so much she wants to know, so much she wants to ask and say, but for right now, she'll settle for a simple, whispered, "I miss you."


	36. Top of the World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second entry for Friday of Angst Week: Prompt 23. I can't just sit by and watch you suffer and 9. Why did you spare me?

Robin's usually a tad more careful on a heist as tricky as this one, though getting twisted and tangled in the velvet material of a ridiculously large curtain is hardly a hazard he would have thought possible. It was supposed to be a quick job, in and out swiftly while the King had retreated to his summer home for a while. Yet, here he is, sitting uncomfortably on the dirty floor of a dungeon, entirely empty handed and replaying the borderline embarrassing moment he was caught and dragged down here.

He made several attempts to free himself from the tight cell, but even if he were to pick the lock, the guard parked right by the exit would be near impossible to pass. Little John is just going to have to come up with a plan, and quickly - Robin hasn't a clue how his crime is going to be dealt with and doesn't care much to find out the hard way.

Though, his release might actually be easier than he anticipated.

"It's your lucky day, thief," the guard scowls at him, unlocking the cell door and creaking it open. "The Queen wishes to speak with you before your release."

"My release?" He pushes from the dirt floor, shaking off any mud that has clung to him.

"We are as surprised as you," the guard scoffs, standing off to the side to allow him to step free. "This way."

He's guided through large hallways, the eyes of many guards glaring at him until reaching a tall, closed door, and he's told that the Queen will meet him inside. He's alone then, face to face with the door, and he considers making a run for it, but there's a curiosity bubbling down in his gut that has him pushing on the heavy door to a large dining room.

He's confused, undoubtedly. Even more so when he wanders to the end of the long, grand dining table where the collection of treasures he'd tried to nab earlier are laid out carefully, plus so much more that he never would have been able to get his hands on. The napsack he'd brought with him is strewn across the back of the chair closest to the door, and his bow is carefully settled against the back cushion.

"I hear your escape plans may need some tweaking."

The soft, timid voice comes from his right as she makes her presence known; she's stunning, in every way. He'd heard many a story of the King's new wife, their new queen, but he never would have expected it to be anyone quite like this; if this is what regality looks like now, perhaps there will be far less injustice in the world.

She steps away from the fireplace and to the other side of the table, brushing her hands over her simple white dress, barely making eye contact with him. "You're free to take it all…"

He furrows his brow. He's been face to face with numerous people he has attempted to steal from, but this is entirely new. "You wish for me to steal your treasures?"

"It's hardly stealing if I'm giving them to you," she says softly, picking up a red jewelled ring from the table before sighing at it and tossing it back to the table.

He's waiting for the trick, for the catch. There's no way this isn't a bit of a twisted game to lure him into a damned fate. "What about the King when he realises his possessions are missing?"

"I would be surprised if my husband realised at all," she replies bleakly, her shoulders slumping at the address of the king. "I imagine the profit will benefit you far more than the boxes they have sat in for decades."

Robin looks back to the collection on the table, mostly taking notice of the additional items that have been tossed in with his original haul, most notably the gorgeous crown encrusted with enough jewels to put the starry night sky to shame. Robin picks it up gingerly, thumbing over the bumps and grooves of the excellent craftsmanship; he can't imagine that her crown would go unnoticed. She crosses her arms gently, tightening them into her chest, as he asks curiously, "Surely this will be missed?"

"Believe me," she scoffs breathily. "You'd be doing me a favour by taking that with you."

She finally graces him with direct eye contact, and suddenly there's a weight on his heart. There's a pain lingering in the deep brown of her eyes, one that he can't quite pinpoint, and it isn't doing much to alleviate the oddly aggressive need for him to understand this beautiful woman that has washed over his soul almost immediately.

He gently places the crown back on the table and circles around to the other side of the table slowly, trying his best not to alarm her as he stands toe to toe with her and looks down upon her short frame. Now that he's closer, he can see the pain more clearly - the desperation in her eyes. "You're not like the others…"

He's made her nervous, and she bows her head as she asks, "Because I'm not decked out in jewels?"

He shakes his head, "You have sad eyes."

She narrows those eyes at him pointedly, the first time he's seen even a smidge of another corner of her personality. "You know, I didn't call for your release so you could insult me."

"Why  _did_  you spare me?" She steps away from him, huffing out an annoyed breath and wanders back to where he was stood before. She picks up his sack and starts to transfer everything from the table inside, ignoring his question entirely. "You don't belong here, do you?"

"Of course I do," she stresses with the deepest sigh, still piling his bag full. "There's nowhere else in the world I belong."

"Pardon my disagreeing, but how could you possibly know that?" he asks. "Have you been everywhere in the world?" She stops her efforts then, just in time to catch a glimpse of his shoulder shrug. "If not, how can you know you don't belong there? There's a lot of world out there to see."

"My world ends at the walls of this castle," she mutters sadly, pulling the tassels of his bag to close it tightly, and pushes the heavy thing to his side of the table. Her words crack his heart quite drastically and it must be written all over his face. "Please don't pity me," she frowns, nodding at the packed bag. "You're free to go."

He doesn't pick up his bag right away, but her soft, pleading  _please go_  urges him to do just that. She's very clearly here against her wishes, and the last thing he needs to be doing is overstaying his welcome. He takes the heavy bag and his bow and wanders over to the door. He turns back, eager for one more glimpse of her. She's collapsed down into one of the chairs, fidgeting with her fingers atop the table.

She looks so hopeless, and he can't leave her in that state.

Walking back to her, she drops her head back to the chair with a short laugh and whines, "I didn't realise freeing a prisoner would come with so much trouble." She turns her head to him. "Do you miss the dungeon that much?"

He smirks slightly, his interest in this fire she's slowly losing the ability to conceal from him growing. "I wonder if I can bother you for one more thing?" He's peaked her curiosity, and she asks him what else he could possibly want from her. "I don't suppose this place has a good view of the forest?"

"You want to see the view?" she asks through a window of confusion, and he nods.

"I would very much like to," he tells her, "and I'd enjoy for you to join me."

Standing from the chair, she peers over at him, filled to the brim with amusement, and he can tell that he's captured just enough of her interest to guarantee her company.

"Your Majesty," he mutters, stepping aside to allow her the chance to walk onto the balcony first, and he can't help but notice how she grimaces at the title.

"I prefer Regina," she tells him, walking passed him onto the balcony, but not far enough to reach the railing. "And, I uh…" she points diffidently towards the sturdy, stone wall edged around the balcony. "I don't do heights."

"You're scared of heights?" he asks, walking straight for the ledge and jumping up confidently to sit and balance on the edge. She gasps as he makes the leap, and it's hard for him to stifle the laughter.

"I'm not scared," she says sharply despite not moving a muscle. "I'm just not an idiot."

He chuckles, swinging one of his legs over the wall so he's straddling it and gazes out at the expanse of the Enchanted Forest. It's decorated in the moonlight shining down from the pitch black night sky that has washed over to mark the end of the day.

"Come here," he reaches his hand out to her, promising, "you'll be safe," as she considers it slightly. Her steps are extremely tentative, but she does edge closer and closer to the edge, gripping her hands on the edge as she stares out at the forest with him. He points out into the far distance, "Do you see those tall trees, just off the river there?"

She follows his pointed finger and nods, "Mhmm…"

"That's where I come from," he tells her before pointing over into the other side of the river. "And over there, there's an Inn that makes some of the best stew you will ever have in your life." She's smiling as he excitedly points out some of his favourite spots, albeit most of them being taverns. "You really can see the whole world from up here…"

"I guess I never really noticed," she says wistfully, still gazing out as she whispers, "Why did you bring me here?"

He wonders if she realises that he hasn't been able to take his eyes from her for a while, long enough for him to memorise the curve of her jaw and for the mystery behind that soft scar on her lip to grow. "No one's world is confined inside stone walls," he says thoroughly. "It didn't feel right for me to walk free from this castle when it's clear that you are the true prisoner here." Her breath hitches, he hears it get caught in the back of her throat. "The entire world is out there waiting for you."

She doesn't answer him, doesn't even really acknowledge his words at all, but he respects that fully. He's only seen the surface of her life really, and he's already made quite the boisterous assumption. He should absolutely leave her be now, even if it's against everything his gut is telling him to do, but he feels like he's at least shown her there's so much more out there for her, even if it's something as simple as Granny's stew.

He hops down from where he was sitting and picks up his belongings by the entrance to the balcony, but her voice draws his attention back to where she's leaning against the wall.

"Robin?"

He's taken aback, grinning when he asks, "So you  _do_  know who I am?"

Her smile is subtle, and she nods, "Who doesn't know the infamous Robin Hood?"

He laughs a little before she softly thanks him, and he can't believe she'd utter such a thing when in reality, he should be the one thanking her.

He bobs on his boots as he considers the impossible, and in a moment of no restraint, calls over, "Come with me," to her before making the few steps back out onto the balcony.

Her shoulders melt down as she slumps against the wall, "I'm afraid I can't. Unfortunately, I am the one possession my husband will notice is missing."

"You are not a possession," he says firmly, and she seems shocked to hear someone say it.

"Fate and my mother seemed to think otherwise."

"I can't just leave you here," Robin shakes his head. He's been in her presence for such a short time, but still, his heart is beating faster and faster, eager to free her from all the things that plague her gorgeous soul. "I can't when I know that you are stuck here and suffering."

"You don't have a choice," she frowns. "And you really should be going. The guards are already whispering about me letting you go free."

"Regina-"

"Go," she urges, smiling dismally with tight lips. "And next time don't get caught in any curtains."

He mirrors her joyless smile. "Will you be alright?"

Her nod is unconvincing, but she says, "I think so. At least now I have something to occupy myself with."

"What's that?" he asks.

Her gentle smile is a bit more genuine as she tells him, "Gazing down from the top of the world."

She waves slightly before turning back to look down at the world below, leaving him to make a mistake-free escape with everything he had hoped to flee with and more. But he's leaving without the one treasure he'd never expected to desire, and it will forever haunt him that he might never see those eyes ever again.


	37. Officer Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick entry for Saturday! Prompt 6: Don't you dare die on me. #AngstFest

It all happened so fast.

The shot rang out loudly, echoing through every nook and cranny of the warehouse, but when Robin scrunched his eyes closed tightly as he braced for the piercing pain of a bullet, nothing came. Instead, he heard a sharp intake of breath and a soft thud of something falling to the floor.

He opened his eyes to find the eyes of their enemies washed over with shock and on the floor by his feet is his partner of almost seven years. The boys scatter as Robin drops to the ground next to Regina's bleeding body and gathers her up in his lap, pressing as much pressure to her wound as he possibly can as he frantically calls for backup and medical.

This wasn't supposed to happen. They only took this call because it was on their way back to the precinct. They're detectives, they don't usually do this, but it was meant only supposed to be a routine check of an abandoned warehouse, not a shootout with a group of ruthless teenagers who felt like they had nothing to lose.

Robin had tried to talk them down, but there was one kid, a ringleader of sorts, just not willing to lower his weapon.

Robin should have stopped him.

But Robin could never shoot a child, Regina neither.

She's trying to speak through the unimaginable pain of a gunshot wound to the chest; it's just off centre, close to her stomach, and bleeding so heavily that not enough pressure in the world could stop.

"Shhh," he hushes, weaving his hands through her hair as her head rests against his thigh. "Help is coming, just hold on." When her eyes flutter closed, he taps against her cheek with a bloodied hand. "No," he begs. "Keep your eyes open." She falls limp in his hold, but she's still breathing - barely, but her chest is still rising and falling. "Don't you dare die on me…"

His heart is pounding against his chest as he cups her cheek, blending the deep streak of red against her skin. "You don't get to die," he tells her sternly. "Today is  _not_  one of those days."

Her eyes weakly open again as she inhales harshly and painfully.

"I…"

"I know," he promises, and he does know. He knows everything she wants to say to him because he's desperate to say it back. "Stay alive. For me, please."


	38. Rock Bottom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final entry!!! Prompt 1, 2, 25, 35, 45! It's been a wild, sad ride!! Thanks Angsters!

The last thing she remembers is sitting in the stale, foul smelling room of an AA meeting. She even tried to participate, said the cliché  _Hi, I'm Roni and I'm an alcoholic -_ a fake name, of course, it's not as if she was there to make friends. Boredom took over. She was gaining absolutely by sitting in the chair, except picking at her already chipped burgundy nail polish, peeling the loose pieces away. And when she couldn't tear her mind away from how badly she needed a manicure, she slipped away from the dreary drunken confessions for a smoke.

She met the icy breeze with nothing but her leather jacket and a small top that left some of her stomach and chest exposed, and a scarf that is doing practically fuck all. She sparked up a cigarette, not that she is much of a smoker, but it's the only thing these days that can take her mind off of the deafening urge to walk into a bar, and the blinking lights across the street were screaming at her.

That's when she met Robin. He was the follower - the one person from the meeting who notices that you've slipped away and tries to be a hero. Regina didn't give him the time of day, scoffing bitterly, warning him, "Don't."

He must've been used to the response. He didn't even flinch. "I'm just want to help," he promised, offering her a card with his details on it. "I know this road more than I'm willing to admit. If you ever need anything…"

She snatched it from him, shoving it hastily into the back pocket of her jeans in hopes that it would shut him up. "Leave me alone," she said fiercely, pinging her cigarette off the side to be carried away by the harsh wind of winter.

He didn't push. He didn't even say another word. Though, even if he did, she probably wouldn't have heard him over the calling from that bar across the street. She'd become numb to the cigarette tonight... and  _fuck_ , she needed a drink.

Well, she must've fucked up.

She fucked up big time. She must have to have ended up curled up in the corner of this ice cold jail cell at… well, whatever time it is. All she knows for sure is that it's early, the sun is barely beginning to rise.

She has a phone call, the officer has told her time and time again, but she's no one to call. She certainly can't call her mother - Cora would nitpick at her outfit choice and curly, mopped hair on top of the lecture she'd get about her behaviour.

Robin's number is still tucked into her pocket though, and she's considered it once or twice. He did say he wanted to help. And she's desperate. And this cell is fucking cold.

Ugh, fuck it.

"Can I have my phone call?" She shouts, listening to it echo against the concrete walls.

"You suddenly have a friend?" A voice replies and her eyes roll back into her head, repeating his question in a mocking voice as she sits up. The officer opens up the cell door and points at the phone hanging on the wall just ahead of them. "I'll tell you what," the officer mutters, "If you can convince them to come and pick you up, I'll let you go with a slap on the wrist."

"You're just hellbent on ruining my day even more, aren't you?" Regina whines through the dryness of her throat and the pounding in her skull.

"And here I was thinking I was being nice," he chuckles. "Make your call."

She dials Robin's number hesitantly, even considers hanging up after the second or third ring, but when the semi-familiar English accent offers a friendly  _hello_  from the other end of the call, all she can mutter back is, "Uh… hi…It's Regina." No,  _fuck_ , it's not. "I mean… uh…  _shit._ "

"Roni?" He asks, and she wonders for a second if he's proud of himself. "Are you okay?"

"I was perfectly fine until I ended up in a cell…"

"You're calling from jail?" He asks, sounding like he's beginning to move around a bit on his end. "What happened?"

"Truthfully," she sighs down the microphone, leaning into the cool concrete, "I'm not sure. I'm sorry to call you. Your's is the only number I have besides my mother."

"It's not a problem," he promises kindly. "I'll come and get you."

* * *

 Regina can barely look at him when he comes in to collect her and shares nothing but tight lipped smile when she climbs into the passenger seat of his car. He lingers for a few moments and she can feel him staring at her. She pulls at the lapels of her leather jacket, tightening the fabric closer to her body.

They drive into the city wordlessly, though he does switch the radio station around to find a new song every time they are hounded with a bunch of commercials. He drives as if he knows where he's going despite not once asking for her address, and when his car comes to a gentle stop in the middle of an unknown street, his intention becomes abundantly clear.

Out her window is a row of bars, and she snaps her head angrily to face him, "You think this is funny?"

"Not in the slightest," he shakes his head, "I'm just jumping forward to the inevitable." He unclips his seat belt, leaning over the middle console and her legs to open the passenger door. "This is where you will eventually end up, right?" When the cold morning air washes over her face, she slams the car door closed again, but she stays silent, afraid the what comes out her mouth next might be the dreaded truth she forever tries to conceal. "I can help you," he says.

She laughs bitterly from deep in her chest; she's heard that sentence more times than she can count. "If your intention here is to try and save me, you're wasting your time."

"I have no interest in saving you," he tells her, surprising her. "Only you can do that. Though I am more than happy to make sure you aren't alone in all this."

"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into," she moans, considering jumping out of the car now, saving herself from whatever ill-advised sermon she's about to hear.

"I know much more than you think," he begs to differ. "I know what it's like to desperately try to piece together a hazy night. I know what it's like to wake up with a headache so excruciating, you would rather die than try to move. I know what it's like to wake up in a bed that isn't your own, sometimes with someone whose name you don't remember, and that's only if you even bothered to get their name in the first place. I know what it's like to have family whisper about you, to lose friends, to jeopardize work, to... are you even listening to me?"

Her eyes are brimming with tears after listening to him list that resonates all too well with her, but she nods her head gently, still staring to the bars on the street. "Believe it or not, I don't sit in these meetings every week because I have nothing else better to do," he tells her, making her exhale the tiniest inkling of a laugh.

Her breathing starts to tremble as she wipes away the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "The meetings don't help."

"Because you don't give them a chance to," he sighs. "I understand that, too, trust me. The way I see it, you have two options. You can either get out the car and live however much life you have left staring at the bottom of a bottle, or you can give me a chance. Give me a chance to prove to you that I have your best interest at heart. Admit that you want something better, I will take you home, and you can finally start reclaiming your life back."

"Why do you even care?" 

"Eight months ago, I could have used someone in my corner. I needed someone in my corner. My son needed me to have someone in my corner, but because I didn't I lost him. Let me be the person in your corner. What will it be?"

She goes limp in the chair, leaning back into the warmth as she thinks about all the times she's ended up in this same position. She messes up, someone brings her up a few feet and they offer their help. Every other time, she's stepped out of the car and walked straight in for another drink, usually an appletini to start her off, and every single time it ends the same.

Maybe, just maybe, this time can be different.

"I need help," she breathes out bravely, her heart clenching when the words leave a taste in her mouth.

He laughs softly, relieved, turning the key to start the car and mumbles, "Good, because you look like shit, Roni."

She scoffs a laugh, muttering, "You must be a hit with a ladies," and, "Also, it's Regina. Regina Mills." He nods politely, offering his hand for a handshake. "And I'm an alcoholic…" she admits breathily, shaking his strong hand firmly.

Their touch lingers, his coarse hand feeling like a genuine safety net that she's craved since she started to lose herself in the alcohol.

She's really going to try this time. For herself, for her family, and for this stranger turned unlikely friend who has gone above and beyond to make her feel like she is worth the air she breathes.


	39. Thunderclouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 1 (Monday) for Inspired by OQ!!! This manip blows me away and was created by an endlessly talented lady. I encourage you to check out her art!!! Instagram: hopeful_feathers_evilregal // Twitter: @orchidfeathers
> 
> Huge thank you to my betas; Grace, Britt, and Brooke! Y'all are the best.
> 
> Enjoy some Dark!Regina.

** Thunderclouds **

Ever since Regina was whisked away by that horrifying tornado of darkness, Robin's barely slept a wink. Over and over, he replays the moment he tried to fight his way inside the forceful winds, how her eyes looked so afraid as she began to accept the latest suckerpunch sent her way by fate. Somehow their gazes locked as the darkness devoured her, terror melting amongst the gentle brown of her irises as she said a silent  _goodbye_  with a despaired look before she disappeared before them. She hasn't been seen since; all he has is that dreadful dagger that fell to the concrete of the cold ground with  _Regina Mills_  etched on the blade.

Days have passed since then. Long days of research and waiting, restless nights of hoping and desperate wishing. He's in her bed,  _their_  bed, finally drifting off after giving up on whatever book Belle had suggested he look into from Gold's shop. He places it next to the dagger on the bedside table, and Robin could swear he could hear her voice whispering from it, calling on him to summon her, but he won't… not like that.

Luckily, sleep has managed to grab hold of him tonight, a tight grip ready to send him into a nightmare about how Regina must be suffering, and it's  _just_ about to fully claim him when a sharp pinch against his collarbone jolts his eyes open.

He's being towered over by a dark hooded figure, the dagger he's been scared to interact with pressed firmly against his neck - just enough to make his heart pound but not quite enough to break the skin.

"Miss me,  _thief_?" her voice asks, and it's unbelievably different: deeper, raspy… dark. Her name leaves his lips as a relieved whisper when he tries to sit up in the bed. "Nuh uh," she tuts, pressing slightly harder with the dagger. "You didn't answer my question. That's not very nice."

"Of course I've missed you," he breathes, almost insulted that she even needs to ask. "I've been searching for you for days. I've been desperate to have you back."

She towers over him even more, bending until her face is closer and he can see the deathly white of her eyes. "And yet you've had all you needed to find me…" She lifts the dagger from his throat and brings it between them, pressing the tip of it to his nose softly. "…with you the whole time."

He nudges the cool metal away with his nose. "I refuse to call upon you like some sort of demon."

The way she laughs deeply pierces his heart, carving a single swift slice from his soul; this darkness has changed her, snuffed out every ounce of light just like Emma said it would. She pushes away from him, commanding the lights on with the wave of a hand with her back turned to him.

She's wrapped in a heavy, black cloak, the hood up and draped. "Let me see you," he requests, standing from the bed but he doesn't dare take a step closer. He wants to - he's desperate to hold her in close and promise her over and over that they will fix this - but right now, the darkness seems to be winning; the six days it's been allowed to fester not helping in the slightest, and he needs to be smart.

With the dagger still in her grasp, she lowers her hood to unveil a considerable mass of dark, draped curls. She pivots around slowly, almost as if she's afraid of how he'll react. Her skin looks stone cold, like it would be frigid to the touch, and her eyes are different; the warmth he's grown used to squandered and replaced by something much more knavish. Her makeup is dark and heavy, a drastic contrast to the newfound paleness of her skin, and those sultry red lips that never failed to entirely captivate him are now painted a hauntingly deep shade of purple.

He notices the way she's grinning as he looks her up and down, wondering if she's ever worn anything quite like this, even in her "evil" days.

"Do you like it?" she winks boldly, running her dagger free hand slowly down the tight, black corset sculpted against her curves, all the way down the thigh of her leather pants before dragging it back up again to pinch the tip of the dagger and give it a little twirl. "Think about how much fun we could be having with this..." She hums devilishly, taking a daring few steps in dangerously high heels towards him until they are toe to toe and she's staring straight into his soul.

The terror in her eyes, the look that's been haunting his dreams since she was stolen away, is still there. He can see slivers of it amongst the cunning corruption. They don't blink; he doesn't even know if his lungs will let him take a breath, but he reaches up to caress his thumb gently across her sharp jawline, and he has to ask, "What do you see?"

"An insolent thief that I can't believe I ever let into my bed," she sneers, hitting his hand away and gripping tightly against his wrist with a ruthless squeeze.

"You were once afraid that I would look at you with hatred," he tells her. "You were afraid I would no longer look at you with love in my eyes. Do you see how wrong you were to worry?" The angry creases soften in her face, just for the slightest moment, and with it hope flutters in his heart. She's still in there somewhere. Fighting, he's sure of it. "I love you. No amount of darkness will change that."

"Give it time," she discredits with a scornful scoff. "A few more days like this and that-" she leans in against his face, her ice cold nose touching his, before finishing, "- _weak_  woman that you so idiotically fell in love with will never see light again."

"You will beat this."

Her conniving laugh comes in a single breath before she grabs his chin to hold him steady, claiming a heady kiss from his lips, a harsh bite that softens, to her surprise he imagines, if the way she forces herself away from him is any indication.

"Not today," she murmurs deeply, pecking at his lips softly one more time, a slight glimmer of the Regina he knows trapped inside.

She steps back, waving her hand carelessly to become engulfed in a cloud of purple magic that explodes against him like a harsh gust of wind, and she disappears before him once more, only this time with her dagger in her possession.


	40. Surprise Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2 (Tuesday) of Inspired by OQ. Inspiration is drawn from beautiful art by Hollie (Instagram:oqdoodles; Twitter: OutlawQueenBey). Shoutout to the bae-tas. Enjoy!!!

** Surprise Me **

Regina has never been one for the college party scene. It's a rare occurrence for her to buy a dress specifically, especially one quite as coquettish and form fitting as the slinky red thing Emma helped her pick out.  _You're buying that_ , Emma had said with conviction the second Regina stepped out of the fitting room, leaving absolutely no room for discussion.

As she steps out of the car, she tugs nervously at the short hem of the skirt while straightening up tall. "You look amazing," Emma promises her, swatting away Regina's fidgeting hands from the skirt. "Now get in there and find that guy you're smitten with."

Regina's eyes bug open wide as she tries to untangle herself from the assumption Emma has made. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh  _right_ ," Emma chuckles, linking her arm with Regina's and guiding her up the pathway to the front door. "You really think you've been subtle when you've been staring at him in class? The exchange student? Really, I'm actually quite offended that you didn't think I'd know."

Regina immediately rolls her eyes and whines, "Can you  _stop_? He probably won't even be here and even if he is, he has no clue who I am. We've never spoken…" She shrugs heavily. "I don't even know his name."

"And that's why if you see him," Emma stops them by the closed door and reaches up to sort the few stray curls blown out of place by the wind, "you are going to introduce yourself and actually talk to him instead of obsessing over how he reads a chemistry textbook. Deal?" Regina smirks with a defeated bow of her head, and Emma nods firmly, "Good."

They step inside, becoming engulfed by loud music and chatter, Emma has to raise her voice to say, "Oh, and would you look at that?" She points towards the far end of the living room on the right side of the entrance. "Mystery man is here. I wonder which meddling blonde could have invited him after lab on Thursday?"

Regina's head snaps around, but before any scolding can fall from her lips, Emma has pushed her into the room and is scurrying off to the kitchen, leaving her solo in the curved entryway. Inhaling, she looks over to where he is standing and immediately their eyes lock, only for the second she allows them to until she's forcing her eyes to the floor and walking further inside to get lost amongst the party goers.

Weaving through strangers, she manages to find her way into a much quieter and dimmed dining room. Exhaling a nervous laugh, she considers how much she wants to strangle Emma with her bare hands amidst her own nagging voice telling her over and over that literally running away from him was ridiculously stupid. He's just a guy. Just a smart, handsome guy with an accent she's only heard from afar, but one that still makes her weak in the knees.

From behind her, a hand pinching the stem of a red rose appears as that jelly knee-inducing accent mutters a gentle, "Milady…" just by her left ear.

She spins swiftly on the ball of her heeled shoe, meeting him with her mouth agape and surprised eyes, delicately taking the long stemmed rose into her own hand.

All she can muster is a breathy, "Hi…" That's it. That's all her backstabbing brain is giving her to work with, a pitiful  _hi._

He reveals an entire bouquet of roses from behind his back, grinning as he offers them to her. "These are for you. Emma not-so-subtly mentioned they're your favourite." He looks her up and down, not predatorily, not even close. It's flattering the way his shoulders slump down in disbelief as he continues, "I must say, you look stunning."

She takes the collection of flowers from him, still rendered silent by the confines of her mind. "Though, I am also partial to that purple sweater you like to wear to lab."

"You, uh…" she laughs tensely, eyeing him up from his jeans to green shirt. "You know who I am?"

"You're Regina Mills," he announces confidently. "But if I'm being honest, you were just  _that gorgeous girl from chemistry_  up until Thursday before your mate invited me to this little get together. She was rather stern when she said we needed to, and I quote, stop making heart eyes and finally talk to each other."

"Oh," she exhales, pink cheeks starting to flare while biting her bottom lip. "Well, I prefer Regina over  _girl from chemistry_ ; it's less of a mouthful."

He chuckles brightly for her, nodding his head in agreement. "It is. And much less of one than what I hear you've been referring to me as."

Emma Swan is going to die tonight. "I swear, whatever she told you is a lie," Regina defends herself, thankful for the dimmed lighting to hide the now furious blushing happening on the surface her cheeks.

"I thought you might say that," he tells her. "But if for whatever reason you are telling me a little fib," he offers his hand out for her, "you can call me Robin instead."

"Robin," she repeats, accepting the gentle shake of his hand. It suits him. Perfectly. "Nice to meet you… properly."

"Likewise," Robin nods, brightening that dim room a little with his smile. "Now I have an important question."

"Oh?"

"How would you feel about  _sexy thief who stole my preferred lab desk_ making you a drink?" He asks with the cheekiest smirk, revelling all too much at her groaned reaction, her eyes scrunching and the grip on the bouquet tightening.

"If it's strong enough to make me forget that Emma told you that and suggested that you bring me flowers, then I'd say it's perfectly fine," she laughs heartily, hiding her face a little with the bunches of appreciated red petals. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

"Shall we?" He steps to the side with an outstretched hand to guide her way to the kitchen.

"Sure," she nods, smiling sweetly and walking slightly ahead of him and towards the closed door he's pointed her to.

When she swings the door open, she notices Emma, mid-laugh with a drink in her hand from where she's perched on the kitchen countertop. She looks as if she's about to greet Regina enthusiastically until she notices Robin following.

"Oh shit," Emma whispers, plopping down from the counter in what could only be considered a terrible attempt at a failed getaway, but instead, she ends up smiling widely at them, bearing as many teeth as she can. "Am I busted?"

Regina thrusts the bouquet of roses into Emma's chest, accepting them with an  _oomph_ , and Regina tells the blonde to find a vase.

"I'm afraid so," Robin snickers. "What can I get you?" he directs to Regina.

Much like her lack of party attire, she isn't very well versed in the realm of drinks either, so with a lazy shrug and trust in her heart, she simply tells him, "Surprise me." And if it's anything like his first surprise of the night, there's no doubt in her mind that he won't disappoint.


	41. Uncharted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3 of Inspired By OQ. Inspiration by the incredibly talented Carolina (Twitter: @CarolinaMR9) -- I love this manip so much. Enjoy!!!

**Uncharted**

Robin loves the way Regina smirks shyly and focuses on the floor of the elevator whenever they end up alone for a treasured thirty seconds or so.

"Dr Mills," he says politely, reaching past her to push the button to the eighth floor as she responds with a clearing of her throat and a very, very professional,  _Dr Locksley._

As he pulls back, he catches her waist swiftly, pulling her close against his front, savouring the way she melts into him. "I missed you last night."

"You  _saw_  me last night," she smirks, knowing full well that's not what he meant.

"Ah," he pops his lips, playing along, "you did look rather fetching in that operating room." He tightens his grip around her waist and runs the tip of his nose down the ridge of hers, confessing, "But it doesn't quite compare to spending the evening with you."

Her cheeks pinken. "I know, and I would have loved to have joined you when I finished up but the surgery took longer than expected; I didn't think you'd appreciate me interrupting your beauty sleep."

"I was out cold," he admits with a smile, enjoying the soft one he gets in return. "Even if you'd have knocked or called, I probably wouldn't have answered. Which is why I got something for you."

Robin reaches into the deep pocket of his scrubs until his fingers graze against the jagged edge of the key he had made. He holds it firmly in a closed palm, so she can't see it when he drops it into the breast pocket of her coat, and pecks a sweet kiss to her lips before the elevator doors open.

"You can let yourself in later," he whispers ass he passes her to exit, turning to walk backwards and watching as she finds the key curiously.

She smirks beautifully, beaming from ear to ear as the elevator doors close, and once again his afternoon is saved by a smile from Dr Mills.


	42. Just In Case

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4 (Thursday) for Inspired By OQ is inspired by the beautiful Gab (Twitter: @imnikkiheat). Enjoy a bit of Take Me Home!!! Just a little snippet into the future they will soon enough have. Enjoy!

 

She never thought she'd have this.

Half the time she finds herself pinching her skin tightly between two fingers, a desperate measure just to feel the quick nip that proves she's not lost in nothing more than a heavenly dream.

She did it on their wedding day. Once as her father helped lace up the intricate corset detail of her dress, a second time subtly as Robin brought her close to tears with vows that put hers to shame, and a third time when the night was coming to an end for their guests and Robin said a sweet goodbye to their boys.

And now, barely a year later, they have little Evelyn.

Evelyn Cora Locksley.

They weren't expecting to expand their family quite so soon, but the surprise was welcomed warmly with an expected mixture of tears, fears and excitement.

She arrived two months ago, barely a minute shy from sharing a birthday with Regina. Robin had playfully quipped that their new little one was already showing signs of Regina's stubbornness in that regard;  _Lord forbid she'd have to share._

She has Robin's eyes. A gorgeous blue so magnificent she could stare at them for days, and a little button nose just like Henry's was when he was little.

The boys adore their sister. They refuse to settle down for bed without dotting a kiss on her forehead and whispering a gentle  _goodnight_ before climbing the staircase with Robin to brush their teeth and read bedtime stories.

Every time they retreat to the bedroom, Regina has every intention of doing bits and pieces around the house - nothing major, but maybe cleaning a dish or two or arranging the wild collection of tiny shoes by the front door.

But good intentions are shoved aside and every night she gets distracted by the baby in her arms, and like clockwork she's pinching her arm again.

Like every other night, she's reminded that this is real and this is her life now. She is blessed with a loving husband, adorable sons, a job she actually enjoys, and now a little girl she never saw on her horizon.

One pinch and it grounds her. It brings a smile to her face and a warmth in her heart. Her happiness is real and she knows it, but she can almost guarantee she'll have to pinch herself all over again tomorrow, just in case.


	43. Out Of Our Depth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 6 of Inspired By OQ! Inspiration by the incredible Kseni (Twitter: @ouater). Hope you enjoy!!!

She didn't mean to fall in love with Robin. Never imagined she'd fall quite the way she did, but she was a sucker for his blue eyes and playful sarcasm the moment she met him in the bar two months ago.

It was a chilly evening. She was square eyed and exhausted after spending hours finalising her article to make the deadline for that month's issue of  _Regal Magazine._ Ironically enough, she had been slaving over mountains of research and data about finding love in unexpected places, and all Robin did that night was change the skepticism in her heart.

He'd been eyeing her up. To this day, he holds firmly that he had been extremely subtle about it, and she hasn't the heart to tell him she noticed how he clocked her almost immediately. It took him no more than thirty minutes to approach her, offer to buy her a drink, and the rest is history.

They stumbled to her apartment together through several pit stops of languid kisses and drunken laughter, and in her bedroom, he worshipped her in ways no one ever has, as if he knew everything she needed and craved after only really knowing her for a few hours.

Then morning came and everything changed. He'd made a small comment about work, about how deadlines were  _doing his head in_  and his boss was cracking down hard. That's the moment they realised that, not only were their occupations identical, but they were the two people in New York City that should have  _never_  slept together.

"Oh my god," she exhaled, praying she was wrong, as she dropped her coffee mug to the granite of her countertop, realising, "You're Robin  _Locksley_."

He had stared at her quizzically, probably trying to work out exactly how she had deduced his identity just from hearing he wrote for a magazine. But she watched those cogs turn behind his eyes until he met a similar conclusion.

"You're…" he laughed nervously, rubbing against the back of his neck which she had already noticed he does a lot, "You're not Regina Mills?" He laughed more then, as if it was the craziest thing that could ever be true. But she remains silent. " _Right?!_ " She didn't know what to say. "Fuck me," he groaned disappointedly.

"Yes," she cleared her throat, standing from the tall stool at the counter. "Though it would appear we already have that covered."

It was a mess. The head writers of  _Regal Magazine_  and  _Strike!_  staring at each other, alarmed and confused, the mood changing entirely.

"My boss is going to slaughter me," Robin stressed, pushing away from the counter until they are both standing up straight on opposite ends of the granite.

Regina scoffed, folding her arms tightly across her chest, suddenly feeling slightly exposed in her thin, purple robe and lingerie. "At least your boss isn't your mother."

Robin appeared to prepare to fight her further, but something must have convinced him this wasn't a competition that he really wanted to win. "I should go."

"Yes, you should," she agreed, immediately showing him to the door and picking up his scattered belongings along the way, bidding him a neutral farewell rather than the sweet kiss she had envisioned them sharing instead.

But going their separate ways didn't last very long.

It was only two days later that those writers were at it again, sharing hungry kisses and another wild, amazing night together. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't keep away from each other. All it would take was one rejected article or an impending deadline and they would get lost in each other in a desperate attempt to forget about the stress of the editorial world.

They've been together since. Falling further and further into feelings that neither of them has a hope in hell of letting go of. They continued their relationship in secret, neither telling a soul about whose bed they were spending the evening in.

It's a ruse they can't keep up forever. They both know that, and Regina came up with the craziest idea she ever could have concocted, and even more surprisingly, Robin was completely on board with it.

The consequences of this bright idea will be one of two things. Either her mother will laugh it all off and use it to her advantage or Regina is going to spend every second of the near future dealing with Cora's piercing glares and angry quips at her expense.

She can just see it now. Cora seeing them together for the first time and her blood boiling beneath the surface, but she won't even blink. Not a chance. She'll keep it together until she gets Regina alone. God forbid she gets Robin alone, she'll eat him alive.

"Can you do a quick loop around the block?" Robin asks the driver politely, reaching down for Regina's hand in an act of comforting her in the midst of her fast paced worrying. "We don't have to do this, babe," he assures her as the car speeds up a little, "We can do it more privately if you think that'll have a better outcome."

"There is no better outcome," she sighs nervously. Outing their relationship at her mother's very, very respected and anticipated annual gala is absolutely going to turn heads, but she'll take that over a quiet dinner at Cora's penthouse. At the very least, it'll spread like wildfire and hopefully forgotten after a day or two of hype. "At least here there will be cameras and witnesses that she has to keep up appearances for."

"And for evidence," he adds, joking lightly, "if she really does try to kill me," while giving their linked fingers a squeeze. She appreciates the way he's trying to lighten the mood, but even the brightest sun couldn't do that right now. "You're nervous," he notes as they begin to pull up to the beginning of the red carpet.

"I'm terrified," she whispers, using her free hand to fidget and flatten the skirt of her dress.

He scoots closer, tilts a little and encourages her to do the same so they are face to face in the back of the town car, almost nose to nose. He chuckles softly through his nose, moving her long hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear. "You look absolutely stunning." She thanks him quietly, her cheeks warming despite the countless compliments he's offered her already this evening. "Let's look at the bright side…"

"Hmm?"

"Just think about the brilliant article you are going to write after this," he nudges his nose against hers. He's desperate to have her crack a smile, she can just tell. "And think of the titles you could play with.  _Betraying Mum_ :  _A Summary._ " She laughs then. Outright. He's ridiculous, and she loves him for it. "And do you want to know what's at the end of this carpet, no matter what happens?"

"You?" she hazards a guess.

"Well, yes, me," he agrees, and adds, "but there will also be champagne. So much champagne."

Okay. He's succeeded. He's lightened the mood.

The driver opens the door for them to slip out and her breath hitches, but the gentle kiss to her lips from him jumpstarts her lungs. "Hey," he murmurs between them, eager to get her full attention despite the loud yelling and commotion from outside the car. "I love you, and we're going to be fine."

She nods, but it's unconvincing. She's going to worry no matter what comes out of his mouth. "We are out of our depth," she tells him.

"Then I suppose it's a good thing that there's no one else I'd rather drown with," he assures supportively, dotting one more kiss against her lips before slipping from the backseat and lends a hand to help her out.

The night could go horribly. She could be unemployed by the morning. But one thing she knows for certain is that Robin is the only new adventure she's ever wanted to risk everything for.


	44. Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take Me Home verse inspired by the wonderful @starscythe -- this is one of my favourite manips ever!

When Robin calls her name out of his bedroom window for the umpteenth time, Regina drops her head to her desk, snorting the tiniest of laughs at his persistence. Pushing her heels off the floor, she rolls her desk chair all the way to her window, lifting it open and leaning against the window sill, sighing softly when she locks eyes with him across the small gap between their houses.

"Can I help you?" She sasses playfully.

"Actually, you could do," he retorts in the same spirit. "You see, there's this girl I'm friends with who is in a bit of a bind."

"Is that so?"

"Mhmm," he nods. "She is so wrapped up in college applications and personal essays that she forgot she made plans with her two best friends for this morning…" Regina snaps up straight quickly, remembering that she did, in fact, agree to meet Daniel and Robin earlier at the treehouse. "If you happen to see her, maybe you could tell her that she needs to take a break."

"I am so sorry," she apologises sincerely, giving her stacked desk a scornful look. "The morning completely slipped away from me. Is he mad?"

Daniel has a competition this weekend, one she knows he'll be stellar at - he'll come home with at least a medal or two.

"I don't think that's even possible," Robin waves it off genuinely. "How's that essay coming along?"

She groans, "I started with nothing and, as of two minutes ago, I still have nothing."

'Ouch," he grimaces, leaning forward on his own sill to match her, "the Regina special." She laughs, a single nervous huff from her chest, tilting her head a little in question, and Robin chuckles softly. "I don't know if you've noticed, love, but you tend to get lost in your own head sometimes."

She'd fight him on it if it weren't entirely true. She can't make it through one paragraph of a personal essay without reading it back, thinking it's terrible, and erasing the entire thing; a process she has repeated countless times already and she only started on it this today.

"What can I do to help? What do you need?" He asks.

She's a little defeated and her shoulders slump, "Freedom," she says as a joke, not expecting much of a response, but Robin's lips twitch into a soft smile.

He tells her, "Meet me out front in five minutes," before closing his window and scurrying off into the part of his room that she can't see.

He's latched a hook into her curiosity and she gets ready quickly, throwing some boots on and picking up the black denim jacket that's strewn over the end of her bed. As she skips downstairs, slipping her arms into the jacket, she shouts throughout the house that she's going out with Robin for a while, lingering at the front door until Cora calls back, telling her to have a good time and to be safe.

Robin's leaning against his car, twirling his keys as she crosses the garden to his driveway. He opens the passenger door and tells her to get in, and she does, strapping herself in immediately while Robin does the same on the driver's side.

"Where are we going?" Regina asks, leaning back against the soft cushion.

"That's up to you," he says as he ignites the engine, rendering her puzzled while he reverses out the driveway and navigates them out of Storybrooke. "We can go anywhere."

"I don't understand." Robin almost always has a plan, he's quite meticulous about it actually, and she got the impression that something had sprung to his mind earlier.

"You said you wanted freedom," he notes, and she remembers, but she's still lost. He chuckles softly when he spares a second to take his eyes from the road and catch her even more confused stare. "Left or right?" He nods towards the upcoming crossroad and she leans forward in her seat to read the street names, but he holds her wrist gently. "Don't read the road signs. Left or right?"

"If I don't read them, how will I know where we are going to end up?"

"That's the point. We're driving for the sake of driving. The tank is full, I've got some Yazoo for us to sing along to horribly, and we have each other. Where we end up doesn't matter.  _That's_ freedom." They're at a standstill at the crossroads, and he asks again. "Left or right?"

She narrows her eyes, waiting for a beat to see if he changes his tune, but he doesn't and she decides to play along with his game. "Right."

"Alright," he grins, flipping his blinker and checking the road before pulling out on their adventure.

* * *

 They drive for close to an hour, Regina making every single decision along the way; a series of lefts, a couple of rights, blaring their favourite songs at the loudest volume they can and singing along rather terribly, all the way to a small body of water. She hasn't a clue the name of the lake, what town they are in, if they are even in a town, but her mind is clear for the first time all day and she owes it all to him.

"It's pretty," she says, closing the car door with a slam.

"Sure is," he agrees as he rounds the car to stand next to her.

"Let's sit," Regina encourages him, taking his hand and leading him down towards the short wooden dock over the water. They drove all this way, they might as well take a minute to enjoy it.

Robin drops down first, letting his legs dangle off the end of the dock, Regina copying him and looking down at the reflective water. She exhales heavily, releasing as much stress as she can with it.

"I know the point of this was to get you away from your essay," he mentions, "but did you want to talk about it? You finished our Hamlet assignment in four hours, you have calculus finished before the school day even rings out. What's troubling you about this one? All you have to do is write about how fantastic you are."

She's gripping at the edge of the dock on either side of her legs. "It's hard to write something interesting when there's nothing special to write about." Robin scoffs immediately, disagreeing with her, but she persists that, "I'm just me."

"You're not  _just_  you," he argues fervently. "You're easily the kindest person I've ever met; your heart is so big I don't know how it fits in your chest. You're smart. You're passionate about your education…"

"That doesn't translate onto paper as interesting, as sweet as it is. I have amazing accomplishments, but that's all I have." She sighs. "I have perfect grades, my references are going to be stellar, but that's it. I have nothing that makes me stand out. You have your music, Daniel is an equestrian, David volunteers at the Sheriff station, even Mary Margaret runs that advice paper at school. There's nothing  _special_. It's so frustrating; I've done everything right, everything that Mom has expected of me, and it still feels like it's not enough."

"Then write about that," he suggests and Regina looks at him curiously. "Write about what it's like to be the model student. You're the perfect daughter, an irreplaceable friend, but you still have the hunger to find something more." She ponders it for a moment, wondering how she would ever even begin to put that into words, but he does it for her: "You've spent your entire life doing what you think the world expects of you... write about how ready you are to be given a second chance to find out what  _you_  expect from the world."

He always manages to do this. He can take every ounce of worry inside her mind and give her advice without completely invalidating her feelings. "Maybe you should write my essay for me," she kids.

"You don't want me to do that, trust me," he plays back to her. "I have a hard enough time mastering calculus as it is, and my tutor, well she is quite strict," he clicks his tongue playfully, nudging her shoulder.

"Is that right?" Regina smirks as he nods with a cheeky grin laced with soft laughter. "And what is an asymptote?"

His laughter subsides while he strains in thought, making her chuckle softly beside him. "It's a thing," he attempts to answer. "A mathematical thing."

"I suppose that's not wrong," she concedes, exhaling as she leans against his side. "You do this a lot, don't you? Driving somewhere to clear your mind?"

He nods, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap. "Mum and I do it sometimes. Whenever we want to feel free, we get in the car and just drive. No curfew, no careers, no yelling, no college essays... we just randomly pick directions and see where it takes us."

"I always wonder where you two get off to sometimes."

"That's why I wanted to take you away. I wanted you to see that you can make decisions without knowing exactly how they'll play out and still end up somewhere stunning." He gestures around them, "I mean, look at what you found."

She soaks it up. Lets the sounds soothe her mind and memorises the way that the lowering sun reflecting against the water's surface. "Thank you."

"Always," he nods, draping his arm over her shoulders and pulling her into a comfortable hug against his side. "We can head back whenever you're ready."

"Just a few more minutes," she says, melting into his hug, basking in the freedom he'd helped her find.


End file.
